


The Week Before The Funeral

by hattukissa



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Nigel is crazy about Adam, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 21:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12219279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hattukissa/pseuds/hattukissa
Summary: Adam witnesses a drug deal gone bad right after the death of his father and ends up getting kidnapped by Nigel and his gang. Luckily for Adam, it turns out that Nigel has a huge soft spot for him.





	The Week Before The Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> I love this pairing so much I just couldn't resist writing it! Hannigram fandom is so creative, I love all the different pairings of Mads' and Hugh's characters, there's a just lot of material to work with.
> 
> There's art at the end of the fic as usual. I hope you guys enjoy, comments are much appreciated as always <3 Also, thank god for Wikipedia and my flatmate for lending me a book about astronomy.

Nigel is a man with very little patience. He doesn't have the capacity to deal with cheating spouses, he has trouble controlling his temper whenever a conversation doesn't go according to his plans, and he can barely stand an hour without a cigarette or a drink. Most of all, Nigel definitely doesn't have the patience or the will to deal with a bunch of assholes that, for the second time this month, have somehow managed to fuck up a shipment and get themselves shot. They're waiting in a pickup car out by the bay, him and Raul in the front, and it's almost two in the morning, the sounds from a nearby night club thumping low in the distance. Nigel's almost out of smokes but he lights one up anyway, tapping the steering wheel as he waits - waits for another car to pull up behind the loading bridge and bring Nigel his money - the car that's already thirty minutes late from the scheduled rendezvous. Raul's phone rings and Nigel turns to look at him, the side of his lip turning down to a displeased, asymmetric scowl and he shakes the ash from the cigarette to an empty beer can on the dashboard. They never call him directly when things go to shit for Nigel has the tendency to blow up and toss his phone through the nearest wall and shoot the messenger, at occasion quite literally.

"Puta madre," Raul cusses under his breath, glancing at Nigel's blazing eyes, tattooed fingers tightening their hold of the phone, "You've got to be kidding me."

Raul turns to look at him with a slightly fearful expression, the Spanish accent in his voice thick whenever he's afraid, "They've been shot. Mihai and Daniel are dead."

"Fuck!" Nigel slams the dashboard with both of his fists, biting the cigarette between his lips, "Fucking hell! Shit! Fuck!"

Raul turns around in his seat and knocks on the window where in the back of the van two more men, one Russian, one Romanian like Nigel himself, are sitting with their backs against the wall. "Plan B, we've got to get out of here."

"Wait," Nigel stops him, peering through the windshield at a set of approaching headlights, two more cars in it's wake, blocking their escape route efficiently. Fuming from anger, Nigel fishes a small plastic bag of cocaine from the front pocket of his shirt, sticks his forefinger in and rubs the white powder against his gums before taking his gun from the dashboard, attaching the sound suppressor to the barrel and stepping out of the car.

"Lets have some fun boys," he growls under his breath, Raul following close behind as the back doors of the van burst open with a bang to let out two more of his men, Alexandr and Dragos, whom Nigel trusts as much as he does Raul. Nigel doesn't know who fires the first shots. He uses the car door to protect himself from getting hit, manages to shoot one approaching guy in the head and then moves forward with surprising agility for such a large man, each muscle in his body wound up and prepared to use every ounce of strength necessary to prevent anyone else in his team from getting killed. Mihai and Daniel had worked with him for nearly a year and really, it's difficult to come across trustworthy people in Nigel's line of work - it's a huge loss and it infuriates him - Nigel aims the gun and fires two more bullets, the first missing but the second finding a target in another man's neck.

A bullet grazes his left ear just barely and Nigel curses, muttering a low _fucking hell_ under his breath as he moves, finding great satisfaction in seeing his enemies go down in the relentless gunfire coming from Alexandr's semi-automatic weapon. Their guns are no match to them. The sound of the nearby nightclub drowns out the shots and their screams and shouts - a guy runs out of bullets and Nigel jumps him, grabbing the man's head and breaking his neck with a simple motion, not wanting to waste any bullets on these pieces of crap that have cornered him, thinking they could betray Nigel and get away with the money, just like that, and the mere thought is nothing but laughable - no-one crosses Nigel, no-one, and the bodies they leave behind will be proof enough of that.

"Eat _shit_!" Nigel bellows as he shoots some more, the brains of the final man left standing blasting off and painting the wall of the nearest shipping container in bright red spots like a Jackson Pollock painting. Nigel isn't exactly a fan of the arts but he grins, thinking this is something he can appreciate and then turns around to smile at his subordinates who for the most part seem to be unharmed. All out of breath, some scratches here and there, stains of blood on their clothing but that's all and Nigel spreads his arms proudly like a conductor, gun still in hand.

"Ransack their cars, see if you can find anything," Nigel points at the vehicles parked around them with his weapon, the headlights casting their group in a bright glow, and then tucks it in the back of his pants as he kneels down next to nearest corpse and pulls out a pack of Marlboro reds from the pocket of the man's jeans. How convenient. Nigel lights the cigarette with a Zippo and inhales deeply, enjoying the sensation of his lungs filling up with smoke after a good fight. It's almost better than sex, Nigel thinks as he pushes his sweaty hair away from his face, lips still curled up into a lazy smirk but when he opens his eyes, Raul is still standing beside him, looking somewhere into the near distance with his brows furrowed. He's much shorter than Nigel but nearly as intimidating with his tattooed face and his shaved hair.

"What the fuck is it?" Nigel asks, glancing at the direction Raul is looking into without spotting anything.

"There's someone there," he whispers, leaning in closer without removing his gaze from whatever he's seeing, "A kid or something."

"What?" Nigel's voice is loud - loud enough to scare that someone hidden behind the lamp post and the trashcans and stir him into motion, a whiff of brown hair, and Nigel's fully alert, sprinting into a run to catch whoever's been spying on them and has possibly witnessed the entire incident. Raul joins him and they corner around the street lamp, trapping the guy on both sides with their guns pointed and there he is sitting on the ground, a shaking, quivering something of a man, large eyes wide open from fear, mouth agape, squeezing a brown leather bag to his chest. He's small - strikingly pretty - and it throws Nigel off completely and so he stands there with his gun pointed, indecisive.

"Don't hurt me, please," the man whimpers, the blue of his eyes astonishing in the flickering shadows of the shipyard - he's been crying, there are tear streaks down the apples of his pale cheeks, shadows under his eyes - but there's something strange in his gaze, it's cloudy, unfocused. For a short moment Nigel thinks the kid must be blind. It's truly a pathetic sight but Nigel decides he doesn't give a fuck as he grabs the boy - he's so thin he can't yet be called a man - by the neck of his sweater and pulls him up to his feet, his shoes slipping on the graveled ground as he struggles to find a footing with Nigel forcibly keeping him up. He presses the mouth of his weapon against the boy's temple, hard enough to bruise, and the boy squeezes his eyes shut, twitching in fear. Definitely not blind, just weird.

"Who the fuck are you and what in the fucking hell are you doing here?" Nigel shouts at him, the guy wincing with the loud noises and attempting to cover his ears but Nigel doesn't let up. As there is no reply, Nigel wraps his fingers around the boy's neck and shakes him roughly, pressing his back against the street light.

"I- I'm Adam," he says like it's the most obvious thing in the world and Nigel should know him by first name already, "I'm Adam Raki. I came here to watch the stars. The view is nice from the... I-If you... If you s-s-sit up there..." Adam stutters but his voice is empty, practically monotonic as he's unable to meet Nigel's furious eyes. "I c-come here all the time-"

"I'm going to fucking make you see the fucking stars if you don't start talking, like right now, you son of a bitch," Nigel insists, now lowering the barrel of the gun to Adam's cheek. The blinding focus of the boy's blue eyes shifts onto Nigel's face, only briefly, and it's clear he doesn't understand for his mouth opens to let out a string of rambled words.

"I'm not sure what you mean, sir, but I can repeat it for you," he says blankly, "I just told you, my name is Adam Raki and I came here to watch the stars, I come here all the time, I sit up there on a bench and I never see anyone, I've never seen anyone here until tonight. You don't need to make me see the stars, I can see them just fine - they're up in the sky, aren't they?"

"What the fuck are you on about?" Nigel yells at the boy's face but Raul steps in, gesturing at the van where Alexandr and Dragos are standing side by side, a tube bag full of something (preferably the cash they just lost) between them, both glancing nervously at the time.

"I don't think he's right in the head, boss," Raul says, "Listen, we really should be going."

"A-are you going to kill me?" Adam's voice is a mere whisper and Nigel turns to look at him once more, gritting his teeth. Raul is right, there's something wrong with this kid but Nigel can't seem to pinpoint what it is - he looks alright, like any other guy who goes to college, gets a nice education provided by stable parents, neat, his clothing pristine yet modest. Someone's pretty, perfect little boy with a mom and a dad waiting for his return home.

"Hurry the fuck up and kill him, the cops could get here any minute now," Dragos says and Raul nods in agreement, "Someone could have heard the shooting."

"Fucking hell," Nigel squeezes the boy's throat a bit tighter but his forearm trembles, the gun glued to Adam's cheek sliding down as the adrenaline leaves Nigel's body, burning up the coke in his system faster than normal. There are sirens in the distance and Nigel makes the decision on a whim like he always does as he lowers the gun and starts dragging the boy along by the neck. "We're taking him with us."

"What?!"

"He could be a-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Nigel continues to shout as he shoves Adam into the back of the van and jumps in after him before yelling orders to the other three. "You - get on the wheel, you two, fetch me the fucking money and lets get the fuck out of here."

With a disapproving glance at Nigel, Dragos climbs to the driver's seat and starts the car as the other two join Nigel and Adam in the back, slamming the doors shut. The darkness feels soothing - the pair of dusty windows at the back barely letting any light through and Nigel rests his head against the side, breathing roughly through his nose as he watches the kid slumped down in front of him, hands over his ears, shaking like a leaf in the wind. His bag is resting on the floor next to him and Nigel reaches out to grab it, pulling out Adam's wallet, his keys...

"Crap, crap, crap," Nigel lists unenthusiastically, digging through Adam's things and then pauses to pull out the boy's ID from his wallet and checks it to make sure Adam hasn't been lying. Twenty-eight years old, born in New York. It turns out he hasn't, that really is the kid's name, and Nigel throws the card on the floor before pulling out a book about astronomy. "More crap..."

"Boss," Alexandr's low voice sounds concerned as he addresses Nigel, "I think he's having a seizure or something."

Indeed, Adam's still trying to cover his ears, fingers digging into his scalp trying to pull out his hair, banging his back against the metal surface of the van, the bumps of his spine visible in the back of his neck as he lowers his head into his knees.

"What the fuck is the matter with you, kid?" Nigel asks, not trying to sound rude on purpose as he reaches out a foot to nudge it against Adam's sneaker which the boy ignores, whimpering quietly. "Hey, you're fine, aren't you?"

"I can't move," Adam lifts his face, eyes darting around the small space like he's looking for an escape, going through every corner, panicked, hands twitching as they find their way back into his hair to pull at the dark curls. He pays no attention to the other men in the van with him - he seems to be in his own world which isn't that uncommon a reaction to basically getting assaulted and then kidnapped.

"Hey," Nigel repeats, inching closer until he's sitting opposite the smaller man, trying to coax him into meeting Nigel's gaze, "Put your arms around yourself, alright?"

Adam does as he's told, wrapping his thin limbs around his torso as he takes large, breathless gasps through his open mouth, "I shouldn't be outside past bedtime, I shouldn't have walked to the harbor... I only did it because dad... My d-d-dad..."

"Put a bullet in his brain, end his misery," Raul shakes his head from the back of the van where he's seated next to the door, already out of patience.

"Shut the fuck up," Nigel turns to glare at him before returning his focus to the boy in front of him. Adam doesn't look him in the eye - instead his gaze is glued to Nigel's neck where a tattoo of a woman in lingerie has been permanently stained to his skin. "There you go, yeah, keep breathing."

It's quiet for a while, only for the sounds of the traffic around them, passing cars and the bustle of the city. They're crossing the bridge now and knowing it won't take long for them to reach the safe house, Nigel offers the boy a lopsided grin.

"My name's Nigel, nice to meet you, Adam," he tells in a softer voice, realizing it's the continuous loud shouting that keeps setting him off - Adam takes a final, raspy lungful of air and visibly calms, the panic still present but whatever-the-fuck-that-had-been subsiding, long lashes fluttering as his eyebrows scrunch up in confusion. "Listen closely now, I'm a very, _very_ bad man but I'm not going to hurt you Adam, not if you do as I fucking say. Do you fucking understand?"

"Yes," Adam speaks, fingers still digging into his biceps where he hugs himself, "I'm not stupid, Nigel, you don't need to cuss at me."

"I wasn't suggesting you were," Nigel leans back, returning to his original position and takes the pack of Marlboro cigarettes he picked up from the dead guy's pocket to light one up, "Do you fancy a smoke, Adam?"

"Smoking is bad for you. It causes approximately 480 000 deaths in a year in the US alone, and it causes over 90% out of all lung cancer cases diagnosed every day. It can also cause cardiovascular disease, strokes, damage the blood vessels-"

"What are you, the fucking Wikipedia?" Nigel asks but he's smiling through the smoke he exhales, enjoying the various states of confusion that flash across Adam's expressive eyes as he ponders Nigel's words. Nigel pictures the stars reflected in the boy's gaze - he's not a man gifted with great imagination but he can still see it, how entire galaxies could dance across Adam's irises. He does look like someone who spends a lot of time staring at the stars.

"I'm not the _Wikipedia_ , I'm Adam," he replies simply, "And I think out of the two of us you're the one that's stupid if you can't even remember my name."

Raul and Alexandr exchange nervous glances but Nigel throws his head back in laughter, sucks on his cigarette and continues to observe the strange man with keen eyes - and it must be the coke for Nigel feels like he doesn't have a bad bone in his body, he can gladly continue to watch this kid, this Adam, for the rest of the night. There are a million things he should rather be thinking of - how to find and deal with the asshole that ratted them out for example - but instead, Nigel picks up Adam's forgotten bag from the floor and gathers his things, stuffs them inside and hands the bag back to him. Adam hugs it against his chest and stares at the empty space above Nigel's left shoulder, worrying his lower lip. Nigel doesn't notice the concerned glances Raul and Alexandr keep throwing their way.

 

It's past four in the morning when the car pulls over in front of the shabby apartment building Nigel currently resides in. They jump out of the van with their bags of money, their guns tucked into their waistbands and with a firm hold of Adam's forearm, Nigel walks him up the stairs and into the apartment. A couple more of his men greet him at the door - Nigel offers them a considerate nod and directs Adam past the table where several large blocks of cocaine are piled haphazardly on top of each other, past the flashing television set and the kitchenette where dirty dishes have gradually been accumulating for the past week. Adam's fingers are twitching at his sides when Nigel lets go and shoves him into one of the small bedrooms, scanning the room he's going to be held in with growing worry. There isn't much - a single bed with a blanket and a pillow, a tiny window and wobbly old night stand, a moth-eaten armchair. It's decent if you ask Nigel - he's been held in much worse places - but Adam looks like he's been thrown in the sewers and asked to sleep in a pile of feces.

"You'll stay here," Nigel tells him, pointing at the bed and taking a couple steps back to leave the room. Adam looks - if possible - even more panicked, his eyes darting up to Nigel's face and them pausing somewhere around the other man's jawline.

"I can't sleep here, Nigel, I can't," he tells in a weak voice, thick with a constricted throat.

"And why the fuck would that be?"

"It's not my bed," Adam explains simply, again like Nigel should already know this, "I can't sleep anywhere else but my own bed, I need my own room... I need... I..."

"You're going to fucking sleep here, Adam, or you're going to fucking die, capiche?" Nigel sighs, not unkindly, fingers twitching at his side to reach for his gun and force the kid to obey but for some reason unable to do so. Normally, given the current situation, Nigel wouldn't have spared a second thought to putting a bullet in the kid's head but he's tired - he's been up over twenty-four hours and he needs to crash badly and give his mind at least a couple hours of sweet nothing. Pushing his hair out of his face, Nigel turns to face away from the boy's pathetic expression - it's already tugging at his heart strings and he's way too old for this shit.

"Where will you go?" Adam asks him and really, Nigel doesn't understand why Adam seems to think he's safe whenever Nigel's close to him when that's definitely not the case. The other men won't put a bullet in his brain but Nigel will, he should have already, but Adam seems unable to grasp the concept of that. He's definitely not _right in the head_ , like Raul said and Nigel's going to have to get to the bottom of this.

"I'm fucking going to the damned bedroom next to you," Nigel groans defeatedly, slamming the door to Adam's room shut after himself, not bothering to lock the door.

As Nigel undresses it's quiet for a while - the TV in the living room turned off as some of his men that have stayed there for the night get some much needed rest - and he slides underneath the covers of his bumpy bed, throwing an arm across his eyes to block the sunlight that fills the room through the blinds. It's fucking morning, and the streets outside will start to fill with bustle and noise in a moment, people heading to their normal, white-collar jobs and here lays Nigel, the gun that killed several men tonight placed on his nightstand like a trusted friend. Hundreds of thousands worth of cocaine in the living room and then there's fucking Adam who's anything but normal, trapped in the room right next to him. Nigel's just about to fall asleep when he hears a quiet bang from the other side of the paper thin wall, then another, like Adam's banging his fist against the floor. Groaning, Nigel rolls over and pulls a pillow over his head to block the sounds that continue until he finally falls asleep.

 

Adam looks absolutely terrible in the morning. When Nigel manages to get out of bed it's past ten - he grabs a smoke from the pocket of his trousers where he's carelessly discarded them on the floor last night, lights up and pulls on his pants and a shirt to exit the room and head on over to the kitchen where Raul is having a cup of black coffee, also smoking. The money they found last night has been counted and stacked into neat piles on the kitchen table. They nod at each other before Nigel glances at Adam's door that remains closed.

"Your new pet's been up all night," Raul tells him, "Couldn't sleep for the fucking noise he was making. I think he's dug a hole in the ground by now."

Grinding his teeth in annoyance, biting on the butt of the cigarette, Nigel stomps over to Adam's door and pulls it open without bothering to knock. After a good night's rest he's had enough of this crap.

"Fucking breakfast!" he howls, expecting to find Adam on the bed - but he's sitting on the floor instead with his back against the cupboard doors, dark shadows under his eyes, looking more miserable than ever. Unaware that Nigel's entered the room, Adam keeps banging his fist on the floor - his fist that is now bloody, his knuckles bruised from hitting the floor boards all morning. "Adam?"

The boy doesn't reply him. Front teeth digging to his lower lip, Adam hits the ground once more, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Nigel slumps down on the floor next to him, anger dissolving from concern as he wraps his fingers around Adam's wrist and stops him gently, thumb caressing the back of his hand with surprising tenderness. "Hey... Hey, kid, you okay?"

Adam whimpers, his fingers spasming in Nigel's hold as he lifts his gaze to stare at Nigel's cheekbone. "I can't sleep here."

Nigel's nearly forgotten the argument they had last night but Adam clearly hasn't. He continues to caress the back of Adam's hand as the smaller man carries on with a colorless voice.

"The curtains are the wrong color, the bed is all wrong, I need to have two pillows, the floorboards don't creak the same way, the window is on the wrong side," he rambles, slightly out of breath, "I need my own bed to sleep and then I need to wake up, brush my teeth, shower and shave before I have my breakfast. Then I have to go to work, if I don't go to work I'm going to get fired and I need to work-"

"Calm down," Nigel speaks to him with a softer, calm voice, "You can have breakfast here. We have toast, and coffee... And jam, I think?"

"I always eat All-Bran cereal with milk in the morning," Adam hick-ups, wiping the back of his free hand against his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever you fucking want Adam, like this is a fucking hotel," Nigel rolls his eyes, "Do you want a fucking hug next?"

Adam removes his hand to glance at Nigel's golden brown eyes. Confusion flashes across his features and the sarcasm goes right over his head for he replies; "I thought this was your home and not a hotel. And yes, I would very much like a hug."

"What the fuck?" Nigel lifts an eyebrow, expecting to find amusement or any other sign that the kid is joking from his expression but failing to spot any - Adam's eyes are eerily innocent - and the question now burns on Nigel's tongue, _what the hell is wrong with you_ , but he doesn't ask out of courtesy. He might be a gangster and a murderer but he isn't a total prick. Instead, completely defeated, Nigel lets out a sigh and wraps an arm around Adam's shoulders, pulling him against his chest and holding him there. Adam's fingers find their way to the front of Nigel's shirt, digging into the fabric as he tucks his head of dark curls under Nigel's chin and stays there, like a fucking koala bear, his breathing evening out as one Nigel's hands comes up to thread his fingers through his hair. It's so soft to the touch that Nigel allows himself to relax, burying his nose to the curls on top of Adam's head and inhaling his scent. It's sweet.

Raul appears in the threshold, peeking into the room and Nigel lifts his gaze to gesture at him.

"Go get some fucking All-Bran cereal, alright? And some god damn milk," he tells the other man, trying to gather his usual fortitude into his voice but it's difficult with the situation he's gotten himself in. Thankfully, Raul doesn't seem to mind and he nods, leaving Nigel alone with the guy. Adam's breathing is coming out in soft puffs now but the grip he's got of Nigel's shirt isn't letting up - he's fallen asleep and Nigel feels like an owner trapped underneath a beloved cat, unwilling to move from his spot not to wake the tiny little thing. His fingers ghost over the shell of Adam's ear, his cheekbone, his sharp but teeny chin, and it's absolutely disarming to be trusted so completely when anyone in his right mind would be terrified of being that close to a man like Nigel. But not Adam.

Long lashes casting shadows across his cheeks, Adam shifts in his embrace and gets even more comfortable, finally letting go of Nigel's shirt to curl a hand against Nigel's hip instead. The latter stays completely still, resting his head against the closet doors and tries not to breathe until Adam settles. A bright chime of a cellphone ringtone alerts him and Nigel fumbles to fetch Adam's phone from the front pocket of his bag to silence the call, not wanting to wake up the other. He looks at the caller - someone named Harlan - and waits until the person gives up before starting to flick through Adam's smart phone with his one free hand. He should have taken Adam's phone from him last night - the kid could have called 911 and told everyone about their whereabouts, but Nigel hadn't been thinking the night before - it could have ended things for his entire gang and he feels a pang of guilt, thinking of the two friends he had already lost the night before. There are only two contacts on Adam's phone. A number listed under the name Harlan, and another under Dad. A strange sensation of loneliness fills his heart that has nothing to do with the way Nigel is currently feeling and he tightens his hold of Adam's shoulders unconsciously as he checks the messages he's received last night.

_Are you okay?_ From Harlan, and another, _I'm so sorry Adam_ , from the same sender. Both sent early this morning. Nigel pockets the phone and continues to stroke Adam's hair absent-mindedly, pressing his fingertips to the sleeping man's scalp and threading through the thick curls. Nigel really needs to take a leak and he's aching for a cigarette but he stays there for a moment longer, before slowly gathering Adam into his arms and getting up from the floor. Adam doesn't wake up, his head lolling against Nigel's shoulder as he carries him over to the bed and lays him down over the covers, slowly, as careful as ever, and then takes another blanket from the closet to drape it over the smaller man. He can hear the front door to the apartment opening - Raul's probably returning - and strangely, feeling like he's been up to something inappropriate, Nigel leaves the room and closes the door softly without making a sound.

"Did you get the fucking cereal?" Nigel asks the other man as Raul dumps the shopping bags on the table, his fingers trembling as he sticks another cigarette between his lips.

 

Nigel is sitting at the kitchen table with Raul, Alexandr and Paolo (Raul's brother who had called them last night to warn them) and gone over everything that had happened at the docks. He's been on the phone with Darko (the man in charge for distributing the drugs Nigel ships to Europe), he's made a some threatening calls promising a few unfriendly visits unless things start going his way, and snorted a couple lines of coke just to take the edge off. Raul and Paolo are in the middle of a heated conversation - speaking Spanish even though neither Nigel nor Alexandr understand it - when the door to the bedroom opens and out walks Adam, looking a bit more rested than he did this morning. His sudden appearance causes an immediate, heavy silence, as four pairs of eyes turn to watch Adam whose fingers twitch at his sides before he wipes his sweaty palms over the fabric of his jeans. He takes a few hesitant steps forward and then joins them at the table, sitting there surrounded by a group of criminals, looking just as out of place as an antelope trying to blend in with a pack of lions.

The strange atmosphere doesn't evaporate until Nigel gets up from the table, takes a box of cereal, a carton of milk and a bowl and a spoon from shelf above the sink, and sets them on the table in front of Adam before returning to his seat. They all watch when Adam pours the cereal into the bowl and starts to eat, careful not to look anyone in the eye.

"Honestly, boss-" Alexandr starts but Nigel gives him a chilly look that's enough to shut him up.

"Who's this then?" Paolo asks, tilting his head to the side to take a better look at Adam.

"Nigel's boyfriend," Raul offers helpfully which gets another deadly glare from Nigel but chuckles from the others - he hurries to correct himself as Nigel's right hand jerks to get closer to his gun, "Some kid we found loitering around the harbor last night, he saw everything."

"Actually, I wasn't loitering, I was there to watch the Coma Berenices," Adam opens his mouth to speak with his mouth full of cereal, "It was particularly bright last night. It's located in the fourth galactic quadrant, three of it's stars are visible to the naked eye, Alpha Comae Berenices, Beta Comae Berenices and Gamma Comae Berenices..."

Paolo's mouth falls open while Adam speaks, Raul looks uncomfortable, Alexandr doesn't seem to understand a thing but Nigel listens.

"Beta Comae Berenices is the brightest star in the constellation with a 4.2 magnitude main sequence and a high proper motion. At 29.78 light-years from Earth, it is actually the only modern constellation named after a historic figure, the name means Berenice's hair and refers to Queen Berenice II of Egypt." Adam smiles, pausing for a moment to draw in some air.

"Shit, kid," Nigel speaks under his breath, "Are you like, really fucking smart or something?"

"I'm not sure what you mean by that, and I'm not a kid, I'm twenty-eight years old," Adam stuffs his face with some more cereal, "But my IQ is above average, if that's what you're asking."

"Yes, that's what I'm fucking asking," Nigel grins, exchanging amused looks with his men.

"Can I go home today, Nigel?" Adam stares at the bottom of the bowl in front of him, trying to catch the few pieces of cereal left swimming in the milk.

"You're going to stay here until I fucking say so," Nigel leans back in his chair as he speaks sternly, not wanting to seem weak in front of his subordinates.

 

By nine o'clock in the evening, Nigel still hasn't decided what to do with the kid. He's thrown himself over one of the ratty living room couches, a smoke in hand and the ashtray laying on top of his stomach for easy access and he's thought about it, he really has, but Nigel's head is starting to throb for he's always been a man of action rather than careful consideration. Adam is seated at the kitchen table reading the book he had carried in his satchel, seemingly more adjusted to his fate for he hasn't thrown another fit since the morning. His men have come and gone all day, acting on Nigel's orders but Raul is still there as usual, now dozing off in an armchair next to Nigel, arms crossed over his chest. After a dinner of macaroni and cheese - per Adam's request - the evening has been quiet which is a relief for laying low is now the main agenda for Nigel. After last night's shootout they won't be wanting any additional attention directed at them. Nigel gets up from the sofa to grab himself a beer from the fridge and slumps down in front of the TV, switching it on and browsing the channels without much thought. He pauses on a channel that's showing a space documentary and glances at Adam, who lifts his gaze interestedly from his book at the voice of the presenter.

"You... You want to watch this shit?" Nigel points at the screen with the remote, weirdly insecurely, and places the remote on the coffee table.

"Yes," Adam says excitedly as he gets up from the table and sits down on the floor in front of the couch, resting his back against it. "I've seen this a bunch of times already."

"Oh yeah? You want me to change the channel?"

"No, it doesn't mean I don't want to watch it again," Adam glances over his shoulder at Nigel - he looks almost happy, and Nigel's stomach makes a weird lurch he has come to associate with someone pulling a gun or a knife at him. Nigel turns to his side to face the television as well, bending his arm underneath his head and he watches, distracted by Adam's profile as the young man's lips move along the words, like he knows this program by heart, and all sorts of expressions flash across his features in the flickering light of the screen; excitement, delight, confusion when he doesn't remember what comes next.

Nigel watches his fingers where they curl against the carpet, knuckles still bruised and battered, he watches Adam's throat, how slender his neck is, the tips of his rather large ears, the shadows of his eyelashes across his cheek, the color of his eyes that's, again, striking in the luminescent light. Taking a large swig of his beer, Nigel forcibly removes his eyes from the other man and turns to look at the TV where something exciting is most definitely happening because Adam lets out a small, inhibited giggle, glimpsing at Nigel to see whether he finds it as amusing as he does and Nigel grins lazily even though he totally did not understand what the joke was - if there even was a joke to begin with. Adam doesn't seem to understand humor that much. Raul snores loudly on the armchair where his head is now hanging low, chin to his chest, and Adam laughs yet again, eyes finding Nigel's who laughs as well, chest feeling strangely constrained from the shared moment of intimacy - Adam is way too innocent for his own good.

The end credits start to roll and Adam watches them diligently, up to the last moment and then loses interest as commercials fill the screen. He doesn't turn to look at Nigel when he speaks.

"Why did you kill those men at the docks?" his voice is as bleak as ever - Nigel hadn't been expecting a question like that and he freezes, wondering if it would be better for the kid not to have a clue. Adam's fingertips press into the carpet like he's petting the fur of a dog.

"They tried to fucking steal money from us," Nigel tells him honestly, "They were a bunch of assholes. Killed two of my men."

"So you killed them in return?" Adam seems to consider the words carefully as he speaks, "Did they lie to you? I get really angry when someone lies to me, too."

"That's fucking right," Nigel sighs, sliding down from the couch to sit next to Adam on the floor, "You said you were out past your usual bedtime, why?"

"I was coming home from the hospital because my dad died," Adam's voice remains as neutral as ever, "I'm not sure why I went there, it was really hard to think. Everything's all messed up now, I didn't know what to do. Harlan told me he wanted to drive me home but I wanted to walk."

A sudden, cold sensation takes over Nigel's heart, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, "Oh shit, Adam, I'm so sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" Adam turns his eyes to Nigel's nose, looking extremely confused, "It wasn't your fault. You shouldn't apologize for things you didn't do."

"Because I feel fucking bad for you, that's why," Nigel speaks quietly, "Hey, Adam... Look me in the eye, yeah?"

"I can't, that makes me very uncomfortable."

"Alright, yeah, fucking whatever," Nigel turns his gaze away, embarrassed, pushing his hair out his eyes and rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger. Too much coke, it must be, for Nigel isn't used to this unsettling weakness. Adam's just lost his fucking father.

"I understand you want to keep me here, Nigel, but I need to go back home before the funeral. Harlan will be there too, and I said I would go with him, if I don't go I'd be lying."

Nigel grabs his pack of smokes from the coffee table and lights one up, resting his forearm against his knee as he smokes, his face stoic. Fucking hell. He should have shot Adam right there at the harbor and be done with it, before he'd even managed a glimpse of the kid's face. Nigel won't be able to do that now.

"I can't fucking let you do that, Adam," he tells the boy without sparing him a look, knowing the expression on Adam's face is something he's not going to want to see.

 

It's the same shit all over again when Nigel decides it's time to go to bed. He walks Adam to his room, shoves him in and watches with growing annoyance as Adam paces around the bed, grabbing a lamp that hasn't worked for as long as Nigel can remember from the nightstand and smashing it to the ground. Adam doesn't turn around to see how Nigel reacts - instead he pulls the sheets from the bed and tosses them on the ground, too, as he shouts;

"I won't sleep here, I won't sleep here!"

"I don't care if you sleep on the fucking floor as long as you fucking sleep!" Nigel yells back, running out of patience with an alarming rate, "I'm going to knock you out if you don't fucking stop the fucking _pacing_!"

"I hate you, Nigel! I hate you!" Adam shrieks, the anger twisting his pretty little face into an expression Nigel doesn't quite recognize. "I hate your stupid house! I hate your stupid tattoo!"

"Shut the fuck up," Nigel grinds his teeth - he's simply had enough - and he grabs Adam by the neck and pushes him on the mattress face first, keeping him there like a misbehaving dog and Adam struggles against strong hands, twisting and writhing but Nigel squeezes a bit tighter - squeezes, until his fingers start to tremble and he loses both the strength and the willpower to manhandle the boy and just lets go. Adam stays on the bed, covering his ears with his hands and displays such a pathetic picture of involuntary submission that Nigel feels bile creeping up his throat. Not recognizing the feeling of regret at first, Nigel backs away from the bed and hates himself intensely for a short moment. When he comes back to himself he's all anger and rage and aggression - he needs a fucking drink - and he slams the door to Adam's room shut with a loud bang.

"Don't let the fucking bed bugs bite you, asshole!" Nigel yells at the door and slams his fist to it's wooden surface, shoulders tense, his posture like a high strung bow. Raul stares at him from the living room with an unreadable expression, maybe pity, maybe compassion. Standing there trying to catch his breath, Nigel sticks a cigarette into his mouth, lights it and realizes it's the wrong way around and he's managed to grill the filter - he chucks it to the floor and grabs another one with jerky motions, drawing deep, brutal drags of smoke to fill his lungs as quickly as possible. There's a loud bang and the sound of glass shattering coming from Adam's room - Raul stands up and Nigel turns around to quickly open the door yet again.

Adam is standing by the closet doors, fists clenched at his sides, his forehead bloody and the mirror that had been hanging from the wall in shatters on the floor around him. His eyes are unfocused - possibly from the pain - and unstable on his feet, Adam sways, mouth opening and closing like a fish on dry land. All the fight leaves Nigel as he rushes to the boy, grabbing Adam's arms and keeping him upright, brushing the blood away from his eyebrows with a rough palm to better examine the wound on his head.

"What did you do, Adam?" Nigel tries to soothe him, brushing Adam's curls out of the way to prevent his hair from getting bloody.

"I hit my head on the mirror," Adam explains clinically - like he's detached himself from reality - and even though that much is obvious to Nigel, he doesn't make a comment on it. Swallowing thickly, his gaze floating somewhere around Nigel's brows, Adam takes a hold of Nigel's shirt to steady himself as he continues to speak. "I didn't m-m-mean it, I don't hate you, Nigel... Just don't leave me alone, please. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, it's fucking fine," Nigel brushes his words off, starting to walk Adam out of the room and to the toilet, careful not to let him step on any shards of glass, "Clean this shit up," he instructs Raul.

The light in the bathroom flickers with a crackle of electricity as Nigel slams the switch before helping Adam down to sit on the toilet seat. Digging through the medicine cabinet, he finds disinfectant but no cotton and figures tissues are going to be just fine for the cause. Nigel pours a generous amount into a handful of soft paper towels and dabs them against Adam's face, wiping away the traces of blood and making sure the wound is clean. Adam's gaze is like a laser beam directed at the older man - Nigel can feel Adam looking at his eyes now that Nigel's are turned away - and he tries his best to ignore it and the guilty ache gnawing at his insides. The cut isn't too bad - Nigel knows that head wounds always bleed a lot - and so he reaches for a large band-aid to adhere it across the kid's forehead. He smooths the plaster with both thumbs and their eyes meet briefly, Adam's still foggy, and Nigel's are the first to move away, dropping down to glance at Adam's parted lips. An unexpected wave of arousal courses through Nigel's body and, horrified with himself, he looks up again, now choosing to cup Adam's cheeks instead.

"A-all good," Nigel hears himself stutter, his English almost failing him which hasn't happened in a long while after he moved to the States, the rough pads of his fingers caressing the boy's face, "All good, yeah, gorgeous?"

Adam nods and his motherfucking eyes are glistening now - this Nigel can't handle - and he gets up from the floor where he's been standing on his knees to get to Adam's level, staring at the moldy shower curtain without really seeing anything. A million things are going through his mind at the speed of light and Nigel tugs at his hair to push it out of his field of vision, clenching his teeth. Unable to understand his sudden weakness - he did _not_ just call Adam gorgeous - but the other man didn't seem to pay much attention to Nigel's words which in itself is a relief.

"You can fucking stay up if you want," Nigel manages to gather some stability to his voice, "Whatever you fucking want, Adam, just don't do that again, yeah?"

"Yes," Adam squeaks and his eyes are turned away now, staring at his joined hands in his lap and Nigel can finally turn to look again without the fear of seeing tears in the kid's eyes. They're quiet for a long while, Nigel leaning against the sink and Adam sitting on the toilet. The front door to the apartment opens, the drunken voices of Dragos and Alexandr breaking the quiet and Adam twitches, the loud sounds setting him off.

"Can I sleep in your room, Nigel?" Adam asks quietly, eyes wide open in alarm like he's afraid Nigel's going to lock him in his room again after this. Like he's completely heartless.

"Are the curtains a better color?" Nigel's lips form a lazy grin, "Is the window on the correct side?"

As usual, the joke doesn't register with the kid. He looks up, clearly pleased that Nigel understands what the drill is.

"It is, yeah," Adam says enthusiastically, curls swishing around his face as he agrees with a bounce of his head, "It's not the same but it's better."

"Come on then, I'm fucking tired as hell."

Nigel's glad they've come to an agreement - at least this way he's going to be able to get some rest without having to worry about Adam breaking the god damn window with his face next - and he heads on over to his bedroom with Adam in his wake, not bothering to acknowledge the group of men involved in a heated, drunken conversation over the last bottle of beer in the fridge. He lets Adam into his room, closes the door after them and locks it out of habit. Adam looks completely out of place sitting on the side of Nigel's bed, hesitating for a moment before bending down to untie his shoelaces and leave them neatly on the floor next to the bed. Nigel doesn't pay him much attention, he grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head without bothering to open the buttons, unbuckles his belt and dumps his trousers on the nearest chair with the rest of his clothes. Sliding beneath the bed covers, he finds Adam already lying down on his back staring at the ceiling above him, dressed in a t-shirt he'd been wearing underneath his woolen jumper.

"I don't think I can sleep here either," he starts, a tremble in his voice.

"You can fucking talk to me about stars or some shit until you fall asleep," Nigel groans defeatedly for his eyelids are already heavy with only a couple hours of sleep in his system from the night before. "Knock yourself out."

"Oh," Adam hums, settling more comfortably against the sheets and pulling the blanket up to his chin, "What would you like to hear about?"

"I don't fucking know, the aurora or some shit," Nigel throws an arm over his eyes, mouth falling open with heavy, sleepy breaths.

"The aurora doesn't have that much to do with space itself," Adam giggles, like Nigel's said something incredibly stupid, "It's a natural light phenomenon where the magnetosphere is sufficiently disturbed by the solar wind that the trajectories of charged particles in both solar wind and magnetospheric plasma, mainly in the form of electrons and protons, precipitate them into the upper atmosphere due to Earth's magnetic field."

"Oh yeah?" Nigel groans, smiling, "Not sure I got all that."

"Do you want me to go over it again?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not a fucking scientist, Adam, I didn't understand shit," Nigel's enjoying Adam's incredulous enthusiasm quite a bit, "You need to explain everything more thoroughly from the fucking beginning."

"The aurora is a natural light phenomenon..." Adam opens his mouth to repeat, the colorless sound of his endless chatter the best sleep medicine Nigel's ever had the pleasure of abusing.

 

It's still dark outside when Nigel wakes up. Adam is sleeping soundly on his side facing Nigel, his cheek is plastered to the pillows, his hair pointing up from his forehead, not a single sign of distress on his young features. His parted lips glisten with spit and Nigel swallows thickly, rolling over to his back to stare at the cracked ceiling. There it is again - the fucking _arousal_ \- and Nigel figures it's just because it's been a while and Adam's very _there_ , easy access, but there are way too many reasons why he shouldn't and Nigel goes over every single one in his head several times. He's over ten years older than the kid. He's not even sure Adam really understands what's going on most of the time. Adam would never want someone like him - a man that took him away from his home and his friends at the worst possible moment and is refusing to let him even participate in his own father's funeral. And most importantly, Nigel isn't gay. He must be getting old or something, for Nigel has always simply taken what he wants without thinking - he's always been a wildly passionate man, in both good and bad - but this is different somehow.

Turning his cheek against the pillow to watch Adam some more, Nigel crosses his hands over his stomach and tries to get some more sleep. His mind wanders, and when Nigel catches himself pondering whether Adam sounds like a girl when he's being fucked, he sits up in bed, reaches for his discarded clothing and dresses quietly. His fingers shake as he lights a cigarette, leaves it hanging from his loose, relaxed lips and pockets the lighter, opening and closing his fists deep in thought. Adam's phone is still in his other pocket but the battery is out and so, Nigel leaves it on the night stand as he leaves the room without a sound. The apartment is completely silent for a change, though Nigel can hear a low rumble of someone snoring in the living room on his way to exit the house for some fresh air. It's a bit chilly outside and Nigel shudders, thinking he should have brought a jacket as he stands there for a while, just smoking before deciding what to do.

The cashier in the nearest corner store is dozing off when Nigel enters the shop, alerting the guy with the chime of the bell. Thinking he's already made things way too difficult for Adam, Nigel grabs a basket and furiously starts filling it with things; a toothbrush and toothpaste, a pack of razors, deodorant, shampoo, a 3-pack of white boxer shorts in size small. He grabs a few boxes of macaroni and cheese, more cereal and milk, returns to the hygiene aisle and stands there for a full minute, feeling immensely guilty before grabbing a tube of lube and shoving it underneath the things already in his shopping basket. He slams it down on the counter and while fishing a couple crumpled bills from his pocket, spots a rack of condoms and adds a pack to his pile, then asking for a carton of Marlboro reds. The cashier makes no comment as Nigel tells him to keep the change and leaves with his shopping.

The apartment is just as quiet as Nigel makes it back - he smells of smoke and cool outside air but Adam doesn't stir when Nigel slides back underneath the covers with him. His feet feel cold and Adam is a wonderful, inviting furnace of warmth, but Nigel stays on his own side and turns his back to the sleeping young man. A small assortment of necessities has been neatly stacked on the nightstand on Adam's side of the bed. Nigel feels a bit less like an asshole when he squeezes his eyes shut, forcing his body to fall asleep.

 

Nigel wakes up to the sound of running water coming from his small en suite bathroom. Yawning widely, Nigel looks over his shoulder to find Adam's side empty, a human shaped dip in the mattress still visible in the lousy bedding where the kid had slept last night, several of the items Nigel had placed on the night stand gone. He throws his arm across the empty space and rolls over to his stomach, face coming into contact with a pillow that still bears the distinct scent of Adam's hair. Nigel groans, pushes himself up and gathers the blankets to his lap before reaching for a cigarette and a lighter from the pocket of his trousers. The shower stops, the swish of the shower curtain being pulled open and Nigel listens, smoking languidly as Adam bustles around the bathroom. When he emerges from the slightly ajar en suite door, Adam is freshly shaven, wet haired and dressed in his t-shirt and the white boxer shorts Nigel had bought last night, a towel hanging from his neck.

"Good morning, Nigel," Adam says, the sound of his voice still raspy with sleep.

"Good morning, Adam," Nigel exhales smoke as he tries to desperately ignore the sudden desire to wrap his arms around the kid and pull him into bed with him. Adam stands there awkwardly, rubbing the index finger of his left hand against his thumb, eyes glued somewhere around Nigel's collar bone.

"Shouldn't you get out of bed? It's past nine," Adam mumbles, weirdly distracted. If it wasn't for his inablity to look people in the eye, Nigel would think he'd be checking him out.

Nigel dumps his half smoked cigarette into a nearly finished glass of water on his night stand and gets up, grabbing his trousers from the floor and pulling them on. Adam continues to downright stare at him with wide open eyes that remind Nigel of fucking _Bambi_ or some shit - he watches Nigel zip up his pants, follows his fingers as they button up his shirt, briefly glances at his face when Nigel pushes his hair out of his eyes trying to smooth it down to look more presentable. Their eyes meet and Adam furrows his eyebrows, extremely confused with the sides of his lips turning downwards to form a scowl. He's looking anywhere but at Nigel again but by now, Nigel's already used to Adam acting strange as hell and merely walks past him to get to the kitchen. The sounds of Adam's bare feet on the floor boards follow him as Nigel grabs his phone from the round dining table where he'd forgotten it last night, notices a dozen missed phonecalls and starts dialing back while Adam grabs his cereal from the counter and sits down to eat, eyes never leaving Nigel who paces around the room, gushing agitated Romanian into his cellphone.

 

"Darko's got a lead on the snitch," Nigel explains his men that evening, all gathered around the small kitchen table, "He's headed to New York to fucking sort it out, it's someone from his side."

"Figures," Paolo rolls his eyes, "Can't afford to lose any more men, this damn deal has already cost us a lot."

"It'll make us a lot of money though."

"We've just got to find us a new buyer," Raul taps the surface of the table with his fingers, "And make sure no-one talks."

Everyone turns to look at Adam who's sitting on the living room couch, eyes glued to the television, watching _Actor's studio_ with child-like enthusiasm on his features.

"He's not going to fucking talk," Nigel assures, gesturing with his hand, "Fucking look at him. He's just a kid."

"He's not a kid, boss," Alexandr's voice is filled with concern, "We know he's smart - probably smarter than all of us put together. We all know you've... That you've grown... _Fond_ of him..."

"Shut your fucking mouth, Alexandr," Nigel gets up from the table, slams his fists down to the surface and leans closer to the man in question, sneering from anger. "You're going to fucking see blood if you don't stop talking and start fucking minding your own god damn business."

"He _is_ my business! He's going to screw us over the first chance he gets!"

Nigel reaches for his gun, pulls it out of his pants and points it at Alexandr's face without paying attention to the scramble of chairs from the others trying to back the fuck up from the range of fire.

"Let's not start pointing guns," Raul tries to calm him, holding both of his hands up in surrender, "Don't shoot, Nigel, you're the boss here. You're the one in charge, yeah?"

"That's fucking right!" Nigel bellows, tightening his hold of the gun but then his eyes land on Adam who has turned to watch them, face pale, covering both of his ears with his hands and Nigel lowers his weapon. Alexandr slumps low in his seat, lights a cigarette and refrains from looking anyone in the eye as people settle down again, now on high alert in case Nigel decides to blow up again. Stuffing his gun back to waistband, Nigel doesn't sit down again but crosses the floor over to Adam, placing his hands to the man's trembling shoulders and smoothing the fabric of his shirt.

"Hey, I'm sorry, there's no reason to be scared," Nigel speaks in a quiet voice, gently removing Adam's hands from his ears and pressing them down, "See? Nothing happened, you're fine, we're fine."

Adam's eyes go back and forth between the group of men seated in the kitchen and Nigel's cheekbone. He parts his lips, closes them again, and the light from the television casts his face in delicate lighting, one that makes Nigel's insides feel like lead. He's fucking beautiful, that's what he is.

"You want to go outside?" Nigel's fingers wrap around Adam's wrists by their own accord, "Get some air?"

"Yes," Adam replies blankly, getting up from the couch as Nigel pulls him along without turning to look at his shaken subordinates still gathered around the table. He grabs two coats from the clothes rack near the front door - his own leather jacket and a large, quilted jacket Nigel doesn't remember who it belongs to and shoves it into Adam's arms before leaving the apartment with him. They make their way down the stairs and exit the building in silence.

The air is chilly, colder than the night before, and the scent of impending Autumn is clear in the air, a promise of freezing rain showers and slippery streets. Adam's still struggling with the zipper of the coat when Nigel turns to speak to him, looking down at the other man's shorter form, his slightly reddish cheeks, his pink lips.

"Where do you want to fucking go?"

"Home. It's Friday, isn't it? The funeral is on Sunday morning at noon."

"I can't take you home, Adam," Nigel repeats for the umpteenth time but without a hint of anger in his voice, "Fucking stop asking me that."

"Central park then?" Adam suggests, unaffected by yet another refusal but this Nigel accepts, giving Adam a dour nod and stepping forward to hail them a cab.

They share the backseat and sit in silence, Adam watching the view from the foggy window as Nigel tries his best not to stare at the kid. He could just let Adam go and tell the others he'd shot him and dumped his body into the ocean, but Nigel isn't a very good liar and his men probably wouldn't believe him. The mere thought of the light in Adam's eyes dimming and slowly dying out completely makes him feel sick to his stomach - Nigel looks down at Adam's hand where it's resting on the leather seat, wanting to reach out and hold it but the idea itself is ridiculous, ludicrous even, and Nigel surpresses the urge like he's already done many times before. The cab makes a sudden turn causing Adam to shift and slide in his seat, their fingers brushing against each other until Nigel pulls his away and plants them firmly over his lap, staring at the back of the driver's seat in front of him. Adam's eyes are turned to him know - they feel like bee stings on his skin - but determined not to return his gaze, Nigel keeps his face stony, statuesque, devoid of any emotion.

The cab reaches it's destination and Nigel pays the driver before stepping out of the car - Adam is already standing on the sidewalk looking miserable as Nigel joins him, stuffing his hands into his pockets and fiddles with his pack of cigarettes nervously. It's completely dark outside and the park is devoid of people, the chilly evening chasing most people away to sit inside warm, cozy coffee shops with steaming cups of chai-lattes or cocoa. The wind blows Adam's curls around and he burrows his chin further into the warm coat, refusing to move when Nigel gestures at him to start walking.

"Are you mad at me?" Adam speaks into the fur collar of his coat, voice nearly drowned out by the fluff.

"I'm not mad at you, Adam," Nigel takes a step to get closer to him, standing within kissing distance from the shorter man. "What the fuck made you think that?"

"I have to tell you something," Adam lifts his chin but doesn't look Nigel in the eye, "I have Asperger's syndrome - a part of it is not knowing what people are thinking. I know people are quiet when they're angry with me - sometimes I say things that are weird and it throws people off and it's very hard for me to understand whether I did something wrong or if I'm just being annoying... I just don't want you to be angry with me, Nigel."

"Oh," Nigel says simply - this explains _a lot_ \- and even though he doesn't fully understand what it means for Adam, he's got the general idea. "Listen, whatever you fucking saw back there... I'm not like that when I'm with you, okay? Fuck Asperger's. Just know I'm not going to hurt you, Adam."

"Oh," Adam repeats, the side of his lip twitching with the start of a smile - he's fucking blushing and Nigel needs to turn away as quickly as possible. "I'd like to show you something."

"Huh? What is it?"

"Come on," Adam takes a hold of the sleeve of Nigel's jacket and starts pulling him along. Nigel doesn't stop to light a smoke but follows Adam closely, and they walk for over fifteen minutes before Adam finds a place he likes and sits down on a bench. Nigel takes a seat as well, their thighs brushing and waits for whatever-the-fuck Adam wanted them to come over here to see. Leaning his back against the cold bench, Nigel looks up at the night sky but the stars are barely visible from the tree branches that grow up towards the sky, the slightly yellow and red leaves now a black mass above them. Not the stars then.

"Is this bench somehow fucking superior to the others?" Nigel grins, turning to smile at Adam who shakes his head, placing a finger over his lips to shush him.

"Look," he whispers, the color of his eyes a deep pool of murky water, "Look over there."

Nigel looks into the dark before them, the nearest street light being too dim to cast the area in proper lighting and he sees something moving in the bushes, an animal of sorts, and he sits up straighter, grinning when the striped tail of a raccoon comes into sight. He glances at Adam who looks right back, face a perfect picture of excitement, and they smile at each other before turning to look again at the bustling pair of animals that seem to have found something interesting to sniff on the ground. How the fuck did Adam know the raccoons would be here, Nigel has no clue, but he's childishly delighted none the less. He's so focused on the animals that Adam's hand sliding into his open palm comes as a huge surprise. His fingers find their way between Nigel's, squeezing his hand in a comfortable grip and the smile freezes on Nigel's lips as he steals a glimpse of Adam's profile. The other man is slightly out of breath, probably having gathered all his courage into that simple gesture, and his eyes are empty, unseeing, yet completely fixed on the scene displayed ahead.

Nigel doesn't withdraw his hand. Thumb caressing the back of Adam's palm he holds it back, sensing the tension in Adam's posture easing a little and it's by far the most innocent possible way for their skin to come into close contact but it still causes something hidden inside Nigel's chest to purr. Unable to resist the temptation, Nigel glances at the other man yet again and finds Adam just as he was before, cheeks red and still slightly breathless. It's too much and Nigel decides he's just going to focus on the two raccoons instead - he's aching for a cigarette and fishes one out of his pocket with his free hand, stubbornly refusing to pull his other one away from Adam's grasp. He sticks it between full lips and lights it with a zippo, takes a much needed lungful of smoke and squeezes Adam's hand again, trying to reassure him that he isn't doing anything wrong.

"You know..." Nigel starts, looking at the pair of animals that are still busy with whatever's been left on the ground near the trashcan, "That fucking small one kind of looks like you."

Adam turns to look at him, frowns, and gives him a deadpan glare. "Are you aware that what you just said doesn't make any sense. How can a human look like a raccoon?"

"I don't know, it just does," Nigel grins, enjoying being completely shut down by the other man, "That big one is me. Look at that fucking tail. Magnificent."

"You don't have a tail Nigel, humans don't have tails," Adam recites, sounding both insulted and excited, "During the process of evolution some traits have lost most or all of their original function, there are numerous examples of human vestigiality, like wisdom teeth, or the human tail bone, also known as the coccyx, which is a remnant of a lost tail but has lost it's original function in assisting balance and mobility but still serves as an attachment site for tendons, ligaments..."

"Slow the fuck down, Adam," Nigel interrupts, still grinning as he smokes, "I'm not as smart as you, remember?"

"Do you want me to explain it again?"

"Yeah," Nigel clasps the hand in his hold tighter, "But be quiet or you'll scare them away."

 

The guys who have decided to stay over for the night are lounging in the living room when Adam and Nigel return a couple hours later. The television is on but the volume has been turned low for someone in the nearest armchair is snoring softly with his back to the returning pair, the other two giving lazy nods to welcome Nigel back home. They make their way into Nigel's bedroom and as Adam starts to undress like he did the night before after brushing his teeth - not trusting himself, Nigel locks himself into the en suite bathroom and takes a long shower in the hopes of finding him asleep when he steps out and joins the younger man in the bed. It's been a while since the last time he's shaved, Nigel thinks as he rubs a hand over his scruffy jaw, but doesn't bother with it now as he too, quickly brushes his teeth and enters the now quiet bedroom. Adam is lying in bed with his back to Nigel who dries himself off before grabbing a pair of underwear from the closet, dressing silently, and then lifting the covers to slide under the blankets.

Nigel can tell from the tension in Adam's shoulders that the other isn't asleep. He's fumbling with the corner of a pillow under his cheek and Nigel turns to his side to look at the back of Adam's head of dark curls, the milky skin of his neck.

"Adam? You can... You know, fucking talk about space shit again if you can't fall asleep, yeah, gorgeous?" Nigel speaks kindly, reaching out a hand to brush it against Adam's shoulder who rolls over to face Nigel as well. _Fuck_ , he didn't just fucking call Adam gorgeous again, Nigel thinks as Adam looks up at his face, resting his head alarmingly close on the pillows - Nigel can practically feel his minty breath ghosting over his lips. "Adam?"

But Adam doesn't reply. Instead he pushes forward, trembling all over as he presses his mouth against Nigel's, unable to fully control his lips in his eagerness. There are two things Nigel registers; Adam's a horrible kisser - he really hasn't got a clue - and yet, it's the best god damn kiss Nigel's ever had the pleasure of experiencing. He's so taken a back Nigel doesn't know what to do when Adam cups his face to pull him closer, panting against Nigel's parted mouth and gives him another sloppy kiss after another, in his mindless frenzy unaware of the fact that Nigel isn't even responding. Adam breaks the kiss for a moment, rubs his lips against Nigel's, his nose bumping into his and fucking _whimpers_ \- and that's it, that's all Nigel can take and he grabs Adam by the neck and forces his mouth back to his, taking the kid's lips in a kiss that's like a tidal wave crushing over him. The want that courses through Nigel's body is nothing short of insane - a maddening sensation of gratification after pushing down his desire for so long - and Adam struggles to keep up with the soul-devouring kisses, hands finding their way to Nigel's throat and then down to thread through his chest hair. Adam's lips are wonderfully loose and relaxed when he parts his mouth to stick out his tongue to meet Nigel's, and Nigel groans, trying to slow down but finding it impossible with the way Adam licks around his mouth like a fucking kitten.

When Adam breaks away for the second time he's completely out of breath, the blotchy pink color of his cheeks like a pair of peaches, and he seems to try to look Nigel in the eye but settles for speaking to the tip of his nose instead.

"A-are you excited? Are you... You know, sexually... A-aroused?" Adam pants, blushing even further. Nigel doesn't know what to say - that much should be obvious - but Adam genuinely doesn't seem to understand which is another part of the kid's charm.

"Are _you_?" Nigel's voice comes out a low rumble - he should let the poor guy out of his misery but he's enjoying this way too much, he feels more alive than he did the other day shooting people in the head.

"Yes," Adam breathes out, "I was when I held your hand."

"At the park?"

"Yeah," Adam continues, "I was when you put a band-aid on my forehead. Were you?"

"Yeah," Nigel sighs, fingers encircling Adam's wrist and pulling him closer.

"Are you... N-now?" Adam asks, his lips forming a perfect _O_ when Nigel guides his hand down lower and presses his open palm against the bulge in his underwear to let Adam feel it, the kid's eyebrows disappearing under his curly bangs in comprehension. "You're hard."

"Uh-huh," Nigel hums, burying his face into Adam's shoulder and inhaling deeply, his voice turning into a low moan as he uses Adam's hand to rub it over himself, moving it up and down on his clothed erection. Adam's fingers curl around the shape of his cock, taking over and Nigel lets go to slide a hand under Adam's t-shirt, all the way up to grope at his chest before he realizes Adam isn't a girl and there isn't much to grope. He settles for pushing Adam's t-shirt up to his armpits instead and closes his mouth around a nipple, earning a disbelieving whimper from Adam's lips as he sucks on a patch of skin with great enthusiasm, peppering his chest with tiny red marks. Their lips find each other in another hungry kiss, and Nigel doesn't care if he overwhelms Adam, not anymore, and he rolls over him, trapping him beneath his larger body, yanking one of his legs around Nigel's waist. The shape of Adam's cock is a clear pressure against Nigel's hip, strange but not unwelcome, and as Nigel rocks his hip down Adam pushes up in search of friction - they both moan into each other's mouths, surprised by the sudden spike of pleasure.

He could cum just like this, just from this alone - as their hips start to move in a common rhythm, Adam's fingers sliding into Nigel's hair, their sweaty foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling between kisses, cocks squeezed between their stomachs. Adam's fingernails dig into his scalp, his short whimpers heightening in volume and Nigel shoves a hand right down into Adam's underwear and takes his erection into his fist, squeezing it at the base as his thumb glides over the tip, pressing into the wet slit and smearing the pre-come across the head. Nigel's never touched another man's cock before but he finds it to be easy - Adam's thighs start to shake wrapped around Nigel and he looks right up and at him, eyes heavy lidded, unrestrained pleasure flashing across his face as Adam does nothing to try and hide how good it feels. Eyelashes fluttering, Adam's eyes shut slowly, his head thrown back, mouth parting in a rather loud moan as he thrusts up into Nigel's hand and comes, cum dribbling to his stomach between Nigel's fingers.

Nigel doesn't wait for Adam to come down from his high - he pushes his own underwear down and grabs Adam's hand to use it again, his fingers wrapping around Nigel's cock as Nigel covers his hand with his own, helping him move it as his hips rock to fuck Adam's palm, his face buried into the crook of the kid's neck. His entire body shudders as Adam mouths the shell of his ear, soft puffs of air tickling Nigel's skin as Adam pants under him, his free hand finding it's way around Nigel's waist and grabbing one of his buttocks. Hips jerking violently, Nigel thrusts into the mess on Adam's stomach, their joined hands tightening their hold and Nigel, too, comes with a low groan, teeth sinking into the juncture of Adam's neck and his shoulder. Their lips meet in a messy, short-winded kiss, arms wrapping around each other as they roll over - Adam sliding on top of Nigel who immediately seizes the opportunity to grope the globes of his soft behind. Adam breaks the kiss when Nigel's fingers slide to the crack of his ass, the rough pads of his fingertips exploring the puckered skin around his entrance and Nigel lets out a growl, watching a confused expression take over Adam's features. It's clear he doesn't understand what's going on but doesn't tell Nigel to stop it - he stays unmoving when Nigel tilts his head up to plant soft kisses over Adam's parted lips, trying to coax him to melting into it as he presses the tip of his forefinger inside.

Adam's fingers curl into a fist on Nigel's chest, pulling at the hair there, and he makes a baffled sound that turns more and more perplexed as the finger slides fully into his body. A dozen questions are about to spill from his lips - Nigel can tell - and so he grabs the back of Adam's head and yanks him closer, forcing their lips together to silence him and Adam whimpers into his mouth as Nigel starts to move it, withdrawing his finger and pushing it back in. They're both hard again but Nigel's not going to fuck him tonight - he merely wants to see how Adam would react - and he doesn't seem to hate it, not based on the shudders of pleasure that travel down his spine, making him shake in Nigel's embrace. The kiss breaks for less than a second - long enough for Adam to spit out a choked litany of questions.

"W-what are you doing, Nigel? Why are you touching me there?" Adam whimpers, eyelashes fluttering and Nigel rolls Adam over to lie down on his back, half hovering over Adam's quivering form and moves his fingers, once, twice more, unable to stop staring at the way Adam's lips part with every thrust. How fucking good it would be to fuck him. "Does that turn you on? Don't you think that's dirty? Do you find it sexually exciting?"

Nigel's reply is a groan and a nod - he hides his face into Adam's sweet scented hair and reluctantly withdraws his fingers, deciding to only hold him close instead. When Adam's like this he's not going to shut up. Lying back down on the bumpy mattress of his bed, on his side facing the smaller man, Nigel cups Adam's face and guides it up, their eyes meeting as Nigel tries to smooth away the crease between Adam's furrowed eyebrows with his thumb.

"Adam," Nigel speaks clearly, looking deeply into the kid's wide, long-lashed eyes, "Do you know how sex between two guys fucking works?"

For a moment Nigel is certain he doesn't - then Adam's eyebrows lift in surprise, the comprehension dawning on his features and he blushes, if possible, even further into a darker shade of red.

"Oh," Adam says, blinking, and then smiles, turning his gaze away to rather stare at the tip of Nigel's nose, the curve of his upper lip, his cheekbone, his forehead. Nigel does the same as he continues to caress Adam's cheek, facing each other with their heads on the same pillow. "I think I do know."

It's quiet for a while - Adam seems to have a lot on his mind but his eyelids have started to look heavy and Nigel continues, petting the kid's eyebrows, his forehead, until both of their breathing slows down into a comfortable sleep-inducing rhythm.

"Good night, Nigel," Adam manages to mumble, inching closer, his nose bumping against Nigel's cheek.

"Good night, Adam," Nigel says in return but doesn't fall asleep for a long time, for watching dreams play out on Adam's delicate features as he snores softly is a much more gratifying activity.

 

It's still early morning when Nigel is the first to wake up. They're pretty much glued together - Nigel has managed to drool over Adam's cheek and he wipes it sloppily with his open palm before cuddling closer, arms tightening their hold of the smaller man's waist, lips finding the side of Adam's mouth to sleepily kiss. Eyes barely open, Adam turns his face into the kiss and parts his lips willingly and it's been a long while since the last time Nigel, rather than wanting to a smoke first thing after waking up, wants to fuck much more than light a cigarette. He latches onto Adam's neck and sucks on a piece of skin, something inside his stomach roaring at the sleepy moan Adam lets out, hand sliding down the flat of his stomach, the dry stains of come there, and down to push away his underwear. Adam helps him by lifting his hips and settling back against Nigel, allowing himself to be turned to his side as Nigel covers his back with his front, one arm around his torso, one groping his ass and positioning the kid as he pleases.

Panting into the pillows, Adam doesn't tell him to stop as Nigel slides his fingers to the crack of his ass. He toys with the rim of Adam's opening with his fingertips, slight pressure, then pausing to rub the skin again, circling it for a moment before withdrawing his fingers to push down his own boxers and take out his cock. Adam gasps when he feels it - the other man's hard length touching his backside - and Nigel lets out a groan as well, sliding the tip of his cock down the cleft of Adam's ass. Just to see whether the muscle would give in, he guides the head against Adam's hole and thrusts, naturally finding it way too tight and pressing two of his fingers inside instead. Adam whimpers and pushes back - all of a sudden he's a quivering, sweaty, little wanton thing - and Nigel can't help it, he wants to be inside as quickly as possible and so, without giving Adam any time to adjust starts moving his fingers in and out in an impatient pace. There's noise coming from the apartment outside their room but Nigel doesn't pay attention to anything other than the look on Adam's face, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull, his mouth opening in choked moans.

"I'm going to fuck you so hard," Nigel mouths against his ear, curling his fingers and managing to find something that makes Adam keen. Turning his head over his shoulder to reach Nigel's lips, Adam begs for a kiss and their lips brush against each other messily - and Nigel's just about to add a third finger when there's a loud, persistent knock on the door.

Nigel turns to look at the door, eyes shooting daggers, glances back at the man in his embrace and then at the door again. There's another knock and a hesitant _boss_ , and if this isn't the worst possible moment ever... Nigel lets out a litany of curses in his native language and reluctantly pulls away from Adam's heat.

"This better be fucking important," he mutters under his breath, still shaking all over as he throws his legs over the side of the bed and pulls on his pants with much difficulty given his current aroused state, and without bothering to zip up walks over to the door. Making sure Adam's decent and covered up, Nigel glances at him and finds him just as breathless, holding the blanket up to his chest, eyes wide open and curses again just because it really is the worst possible moment.

"What?" Nigel yells at the man standing behind the door - Raul, as usual - and he must look intimidating because Raul visibly shrinks, tentatively checking whether Nigel's got a hold of his gun or if it's been placed in it's usual spot over the night stand.

"It's just... Darko's in New York," he explains aversely, "You're meeting him and then a new potential buyer. He's got it all scheduled - your phone's been going off all morning."

"Shit," Nigel scratches the back of his head, "Give me a fucking moment."

Nigel walks over to his closet and pulls on a fresh shirt - there's no time for a shower but Nigel doesn't mind smelling like Adam all day - and he faces the kid once more before exiting the room, suddenly finding it hard to form a proper sentence. It's like his mind has been reduced to something primal, something where only Adam with his inviting, skinny little body is the single most important thing that matters.

"You," he starts, speaking to the kid while clearing his throat, "Fucking eat breakfast and then... Fuck. You know, read your book or something, I'll be back soon, yeah gorgeous?"

Adam nods, still buried underneath the blanket - his hair is pointing up in the front and Nigel longs to smooth it down with his palm but he hasn't got any time. Sticking a cigarette between his lips, Nigel lights up and decides to settle the business as quickly as possible as he leaves the apartment, trusting Adam to be safe there with Raul.

 

It turns out, the business isn't settled within a couple hours. As the new guy seems trustworthy enough, Nigel agrees on a down payment and schedules a meet up but ends up staying for a while doing lines and getting familiar with his new group of business partners. He's been up on his feet all day long, first in the morning with Darko and his men, and it's already dark when he gets a ride home from one of the guys that work for the new buyer. The thought of a quiet apartment, just the low buzz of the TV, his subordinates falling asleep around the living room, Adam watching a space documentary or possibly even waiting for him in bed, is a comfortable idea - homely even - and during the time Nigel has spent in New York, not once has he felt quite at home like he does now. The drugs have mostly flushed out of his system when the car pulls up in front of the apartment building - the lights are still on, and immediately Nigel gets a feeling that something isn't right. Thanking the driver, he jumps out of the car and hurries up the steps to enter the corridor, his heart beating in his chest with growing unease and worry - mostly for Adam.

The scene before his eyes isn't entirely unexpected as Nigel yanks the front door open and steps into the apartment. Darko is there with a couple of guys that work for him, a third guy has been tied up to a chair, arms behind the back rest, his bloody and battered head hanging low, saliva mixed with blood dribbling down from his open mouth as he begs for something incomprehensible. Darko is pointing a gun at his head, speaking in a low voice Nigel isn't able to hear from his post at the front door - he slams it shut with a bang, anger growing with every footstep and eyes the apartment in search of Adam who he finds backed up against the kitchen wall, looking simply horrified.

"Ah, Nigel," Darko says, turning around to face him with a smile on his lips, spreading his arms in a friendly gesture, "Care to do the honors? It's your men he got killed, after all."

Pulling his gun out from behind his back, Nigel's nostrils flare in anger as he scans Adam's quivering form up and down trying to spot any damage. He appears to be fine for the most part - and then something just clicks in his head as Nigel lifts his weapon and aims it at his old friend instead of the traitor.

"You bring him here," Nigel sneers, mouth twisting to a threatening scowl, "To my fucking house."

"Nigel," Darko repeats, like this is all a fucking joke, "Think of it as something like a bribe. As an apology for trusting this piece of shit with a job that important. I know how you feel about snitches, man."

Nigel doesn't lower the gun. Instead, he turns to look at Raul who has the decency to look afraid. "Did they fucking beat him up here? In front of... In front of _him_?"

"Adam's fine, they haven't touched him, I swear on my mother's grave," Raul lifts his palms in surrender, looking around to find support from either Alexandr or Dragos who are also standing there with their postures stiff and alarmed. "Put the gun down, Nigel."

"Not in front of Adam," Nigel shakes his head slowly, fingers tightening around the gun, "Not in front of fucking _Adam._ "

"No-one has to die here tonight," Raul tries to reason, the only one brave enough of his men to continue talking. Darko looks like he's already been shot, his expression one of utter disbelief as his eyes dart to the corner where Adam's pressed up against the wall just to see what the all the fuss is about. He doesn't understand what the big deal here is.

"Don't you fucking look at him," Nigel continues, pressing the cold mouth of his gun to Darko's temple. "Don't fucking look at him or this'll turn to fucking blood in an instant."

"What the hell?" Darko croaks, meeting Nigel's gaze, "No reason to get so wound up - we're going aren't we? Shit Nigel, you really need to cut down on the snow."

"You're getting the fuck out of here and you're taking him with you," Nigel commands, pointing with his gun at the beat up man who has managed to lift up his face to watch the confrontation.

"Shit," Darko shakes his head, "We're going, I said, what the hell has gotten into you, Nigel?"

"Just get the fuck out of my face!" Nigel bellows, his finger on the trigger trembling dangerously as Darko's men cut the cable ties around the bashed guy's wrists to free him and drag him up to his feet. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Nigel's eyes follow the procedure, to the incredulous expression on Darko's face to the fearful bungling of his men. Their leader takes one more look at Adam who's still pressed up against the wall and seems to put two and two together - his eyebrows shooting up as understanding dawns upon his features.

"Nigel..." Darko says tenderly, "Didn't think of you as a cocksucker. I'm sorry, man."

That does it. Nigel flips the gun around in his hand and instead of shooting the man, merely smacks it against the guy's head full force. Darko's knees give out - someone's there to keep him up but Nigel jumps him like a maniac, tossing the gun to the floor in a sudden need to much rather use his bare fists. There are shouts, people are pulling them apart as Nigel fights mindlessly, pouring all his anger into his fists as they collide with Darko's face. He must be moving like a fucking windmill, long arms and brute strength, but somehow they manage to force them apart - Raul behind him with an arm around Nigel's neck, Alexandr keeping his right fist in place with his entire body. One of Darko's eyes is already starting to swell up, a thick trail of blood sliding down his forehead from the top of his head where Nigel hit him as they drag him away, the sounds of their voices barely registering as his men try to persuade Nigel to calm down.

"Fucking let go," he yanks his arm free but doesn't go after Darko, the snitch and the group of guys who're surely not going to ever again come to Nigel's apartment, buckling in Raul's wrestling hold like an enraged bull. Everyone is out of breath - Dragos' bleeding nose the only collateral damage - but Nigel only sees Adam who hasn't moved an inch from his spot. "I'm not going to... Fucking.... Just fucking chill, I'm not going to beat up anyone-"

"Tranquilo, boss," Raul says, refusing to let go until Nigel has settled. After what feels like forever Raul loosens his hold - Nigel rubs his hand over his neck where he'd been held down and looks around the room, trying not to look embarrassed at his unexpected combustion.

Nigel doesn't wait - he walks straight up to Adam and takes his face into his hands tentatively. The kid's eyes are wide from fear, pupils dilated, as he looks up at Nigel under his dark eyelashes.

"I'm so sorry, angel," Nigel's voice is quiet now, "I didn't want you to fucking see shit like that, I'm so fucking sorry, gorgeous."

"I didn't see much, I kept my eyes closed when they hit him," Adam says painfully innocently as Nigel's thumbs caress his cheeks.

"Good boy," Nigel breathes out, tilting the face in his hands back and delighting in the way how trustingly Adam lets him do it. Still high on adrenaline, Nigel leans in and nearly kisses him before catching himself doing it - suddenly aware of the other men still in the room with them. "Go to the bedroom, yeah?"

He doesn't wait for Adam's reply before letting go and turning to face Raul, Alexandr, Dragos and Paolo who are all standing there, waiting for orders. As Adam's distancing footsteps start echo on the floorboards, Nigel opens his mouth and then closes it again, unable to find proper words. He pushes his hair away from his face and averts his eyes in discomfort, wanting to apologize for blowing up so profoundly but finding it hard to swallow his pride.

"Take the night off," Nigel settles on saying, "Take some money from the stash. Go to a fucking strip club, whatever the fuck you want."

Nigel doesn't stick around long enough to see the amused looks on his men's faces. He turns around to enter his bedroom and closes the door after himself - expecting to find Adam getting ready for bed but finding him standing by the threshold instead, waiting for Nigel to join him. As the door closes with a clear click of the lock, Adam steps up to him and places a hand over Nigel's crotch. His sexual advances are just as awkward as any other social interaction when it comes to him but Nigel doesn't let his face break into a smile because that would only add more questions to Adam's never ending list, and this isn't the time for talking. Reaching up to take a hold of Nigel's face, Adam pulls him down to be able to reach his lips and presses a klutzy, open mouthed kiss to Nigel's lips, breath shaky with excitement as Nigel returns it immediately. As Nigel's arms wrap around Adam's waist, the shorter man is forced to stand on his tiptoes to be able to keep their mouths glued to one another, the front planes of their bodies fully pressed together.

"I-" Adam tries to speak between kisses as Nigel walks them backwards over to the bed, "I want you to... Can you do it again, what you did last night-"

With firm hands on Adam's shoulders, Nigel pushes him down on the bed covers and crawls over him, planting sloppy, hurried kisses to the exposed skin visible from the neckline of his shirt. The desire courses through his body in waves, hips starting to rock against Adam's autonomously, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper of Adam's jeans.

"C-can you... Last night, you put your fingers, ooh-" Adam whimpers, furrowing his eyebrows as he tries to concentrate on the words coming out of his mouth, "It was exciting when you... When you put... Um... Inside me-"

"Adam," Nigel interrupts him firmly, forgetting the task at hand to cup Adam's face and speak to him clearly. "I need you to shut the fuck up now, can you do that, gorgeous?"

Adam nods slowly.

"Good," Nigel groans and dives in for another kiss. He yanks the pants down together with Adam's underwear, confident with many years of experience in undressing someone else, removes Adam's shoes and his socks to nudge them off the bed before pulling off his own shirt. Adam pushes himself up long enough to take off his shirt in return and lies back down before Nigel's on top of him, their lips colliding with a frenzy, Nigel driven by all the naked skin suddenly underneath him. As Nigel grinds his hips down Adam rolls his up, and they moan into each other's mouths - and it's clear Adam wants this just as much as Nigel, his hands roaming all over Nigel's body, fingers dipping underneath the waistband of his trousers.

When Nigel leaves Adam's warmth it's only for a moment - he reaches for the lube hidden underneath the mattress and feels Adam's fingers pulling at his belt, opening the buckle and unzipping it with feverish fingers - and then he's back on top of the boy, guiding his slick fingers between Adam's legs and sliding his fore and middle finger inside. It's different like this with the added lubrication, and Adam's lips part in a loud gasp, unprepared for the intrusion but liking it none the less. The kiss becomes more urgent, messy with the lack of practice, Adam's lips forgetting what they're doing with every curl of Nigel's fingers. Nigel adds his ring finger and Adam whimpers - it's too tight, Nigel knows this, but he's reached his limit and he wants to be inside before Adam comes - moving them in and out of his body with growing incitement. The look on Adam's face turns him on more than anything he's ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes upon - the younger man's already unfocused eyes heavy-lidded and cloudy, his cheeks a deep, blotchy shade of red - and Nigel buries his face into the crook of Adam's neck and his shoulder just for a moment, panting roughly.

Now that Nigel's lips aren't muffling the sound, Adam's groans grow in volume. They're unlike Nigel's ever heard before, unrestrained, he's not trying to make them sound pretty, and in a way the complete honesty in his pleasure is staggering - enough to make Nigel's chest ache. This kid doesn't belong here, not in Nigel's world of violence and drugs and betrayals, yet he's the best thing that he's ever come across on his path of breaking the law. Nigel presses his forehead against Adam's, mouthing the side of his lip as he withdraws his fingers to reach for his wallet in the back pocket of his trousers to pick up a condom. He needs this, needs it more than air - Adam's shaky fingers trail into his hair and encourage him further, and Nigel pushes his underwear down to pull out his cock before ripping the package open with his teeth. He turns away to spit away the little piece of plastic stuck between his teeth and rolls the condom on himself, then grabbing the back of Adam's knee and lifting one of his legs on Nigel's shoulder before aligning their bodies.

The first thrust is nothing but heavenly. Adam's body is tighter than a closed fist - it feels like something that shouldn't be breached - and Nigel's fingers sink into the back of Adam's thigh as he pushes in fully, then pausing to let them both take a deep lungful of air. He glances up at Adam's face and finds it looking slightly panicked, eyes and mouth open wide, but Adam hasn't gone soft despite the pain.

Adam does sound like a girl when he's being fucked. Nigel pulls back and pushes in, his hips finding a steady rhythm, even the slightest movement causing whimpers to come pouring out of Adam's lips, his lips that press against Nigel's ear, causing pleasant shivers to run down the older man's spine. The toes of Adam's free leg dig into the sheets and knock Nigel's wallet off the bed, the coins clattering on the floor loudly, and Nigel takes a hold of his ankle and yanks the other leg up as well as he starts to move faster, mind going blissfully blank as he fucks Adam into the mattress.

Unable to remove his eyes from Adam's face, Nigel doesn't give in to the urge to kiss him even though Adam tries to push up to catch his lips - he doesn't want to miss a single hint of an expression that flashes across Adam's innocent, normally so blank face, the way his mouth never closes, the way his eyes start to roll towards the back of his skull as his climax approaches. He hasn't even touched Adam's cock tonight, Nigel realizes, and hurriedly fits a hand between Adam's legs to wrap his fingers around his erection but it's too late, for Adam lets out a pathetic wail and comes all over Nigel's hand, his body melting into convulsions that force a moan or two out of Nigel's raspy throat. Adam looks like he has no clue about what's happened - his eyebrows scrunched up from confusion mixed with pleasure, his upper lip jutting forward and Nigel can't help it as he leans in to lick the pout from Adam's mouth. He regrets the condom - it would've been amazing to fill him up with cum - but Nigel decides it's something he's going to do later and now, rocks his hips violently with clear intent.

Adam's legs slip down from Nigel's shoulders and wrap around his waist instead, their sweat-slicked bodies moving in unison and he's wonderfully relaxed underneath Nigel, so pliant and so warm, that the first waves of his orgasm merely make him move faster. Nigel barely registers his lips whispering something stupid like _angel_ against Adam's ravished mouth as he comes, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of Adam's ass, leaving moon-shaped crescents into the milky way of his skin. Slender arms wrap around his neck and pull him into a hug, their breathing equally shaky, both coming down from their shared moment of ecstasy. Nigel smiles and Adam returns the grin eagerly, probably thinking he's supposed to do it too - and that's the moment Nigel realizes he's head over heels for this man, fucking chin-deep in the swamp, and he doesn't mind drowning for Nigel's always been a man who loves intensely, without inhibition. But being with Nigel isn't good for Adam. It isn't safe.

"Feels amazing," Adam whispers, like he's unsure whether he's allowed to talk yet or not, "It feels really... Really good, Nigel."

"Mhh," Nigel groans, hiding his face into Adam's wild curls, not wanting the kid to see the torn expression on his face even though Adam doesn't know how to read it. He's still half hard and inside Adam, kind of wants to go again but Adam's breathing has turned into calm puffs of air, and reluctantly, Nigel reaches down to make sure the condom doesn't come off as he pulls out. Barely wincing, Adam settles against the pillows as Nigel ties the condom and chucks it towards the trashcan but misses by more than a couple inches. The alarm clock on his night stand tells him it's nearly one in the morning - on a Sunday - and with a growing sensation of dread building in his insides, Nigel remembers it's the day of Adam's father's funeral. Glancing at the now sleeping man next to him, Nigel sets the alarm with gloomy certainty and then lies back down to pull Adam into his embrace and breathe in the scent of his hair. Fucking Adam.

 

 

Nigel isn't used to the sound of the alarm. Normally he wakes up whenever-the-fuck he pleases, eats what-ever-the-fuck he wants, fucks whoever, whenever, shoots people and snorts coke without sparing a single thought to the idea of what's the right thing to do. The first thing in the morning Adam does after opening his eyes is fucking smile at him - a goofy, sleepy curve on his puffy lips - and it's the first time in years Nigel kind of wants to cry but of course, he doesn't. He gives the kid a long, lingering _good morning_ kiss, sliding one of his legs between Adam's but forbidding himself from rolling over the smaller man's slender form.

"Do it again," Adam breathes against his lips, "Do what you did last night, again."

"Not right now, gorgeous," Nigel tells him - it really takes all his willpower to refuse - and god damn it, would it be perfect to just thrust into that perfect heat right after waking up. Instead, Nigel gets up from the bed without sparing a glance at the confused look on Adam's face and enters the bathroom to take a quick shower. He shaves the scruff off his face too, wanting to look more presentable and less like a gangster for today, splashes on some aftershave and walks back into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his hips.

"Go clean yourself up," Nigel tells him, still not wanting to see the expression on Adam's face - the more he looks the harder it's going to be - and lights a cigarette right after the door to the bathroom closes after Adam.

When he re-emerges from the shower, Nigel's sitting on the bed dressed in an all-black suit, smoking his third cigarette of the morning. Adam seems to figure out that something's up - he freezes in the doorway and downright stares at him, opening and closing his mouth like a fish on dry land. His cheeks are slightly pink from the shower and it causes a pleasant, dull sensation of arousal in the pit of Nigel's stomach before he manages to turn away again.

"Why are you dressed like that?"

"Put on some clothes, Adam."

"Are we going somewhere?"

"Just put on some fucking clothes, god damn it, Adam." Nigel sucks on his cigarette and then exhales smoke, his fingers trembling, his heart in his chest feeling like a heavy, ice cold rock. Adam doesn't do anything for a while - he stands still, probably as confused as ever, but Nigel doesn't have the strenght to explain anything now. He only wants Adam to do as he's told.

"Fine!" Adam shrieks, stomping over to the other side of the bed where his clothes are still scattered all over the floor and starts to pull on his pants clumsily. Nigel feels horrible again - the guilt gnawing at his insides like a pack of vultures on a prey, and he stands up from the bed when Adam's nearly done putting on his sweater he came in wearing.

"We're going to the fucking funeral, alright?" Nigel groans, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray on the night stand. "It's at noon, right?"

"Oh." Adam blinks at him, one of his hands in the middle of finding it's way through the sleeve of his sweater. "I thought you didn't want me to go. You said you were going to keep me here."

"Well, I've changed my fucking mind," Nigel continues, "Now hurry the fuck up, we still need to drive to your fucking house to get you a proper suit."

"Yes, Nigel," Adam smiles at him, not picking up the tense tone in Nigel's words at all. "I'm glad you changed your mind."

"Yeah, I'm fucking glad, too," Nigel mutters under his breath, going around the room starting to gather Adam's things and stuffing them into his bag. They leave the room together, Adam following close after him and Nigel stirs Raul who's been sleeping on the living room couch awake and tells him to give them a ride.

They don't take the van - mostly because of the bullet holes in the two front doors. The car they end up choosing is a plain, faded black passenger car that won't attract any unnecessary attention. Nigel and Adam take the back seat as Raul assumes the duty of a driver, and it's quiet, not even the radio is on as Nigel nudges Adam's side to make him give them his house address. Feeling utterly conflicted, Nigel's shoulders are heavy with guilt from acting like an asshole all morning even though he should be feeling sorry for Adam, not himself - but Adam doesn't seem to be any more emotionally affected by being on his way to tell his final goodbyes to his father than he has been for the past couple days. With deep regret in his heart, Nigel reaches out to clasp Adam's hand and squeeze it supportingly - he should have tried to understand things better, should have been kinder to the kid. Adam deserved none of the harsh words, none of the bad treatment Nigel's so used to giving he'd forgotten not everyone's like him - bitter and roughed up by the world. Even if he didn't have Asperger's, Adam would probably still be just as pure.

There's no traffic and the ride to Adam's place takes a little over half an hour. While Adam dresses, Nigel walks around the apartment and takes a look around the massive place - the bookshelves filled with astronomy books, science, nothing non-fiction, peeks into his well-organized kitchen cupboards, looks through the stack of letters that's been dumped through his mailbox on the door. There's a list of some sort taped to the fridge; _Adam's chores_ and _Dad's chores_ , and Nigel swallows thickly, suddenly overwhelmingly sad picturing the other man living here all alone, spending his days until the end of time reading and eating macaroni and cheese. When Adam pops into the toilet for a moment, Nigel busies himself with exploring his bedroom - dark blue, childish bedding, star-patterned curtains, closet full of neatly folded clothes, a stack of porn DVD's Nigel grins at, and strangely, what appears to be a space suit. Nigel turns around to face him when Adam comes out of the bathroom, stiff fingers working on his tie, and crosses the distance between them to help.

Adam looks even more gorgeous dressed like that, his hair combed and out of his forehead, and Nigel runs his hands down the shorter man's arms, unable to stop touching him.

"A lot of space stuff, huh?" Nigel says just to break the strange atmosphere that Adam is completely oblivious to.

"Yes. I can show you my telescope later, if you want," Adam tells him excitedly, "It's an 11-inch Schmidt-Cassegrain with integer gear ratios and permanently programmable periodic error correction - the 11-inch SCT gathers 41% more light than the 9.25-inch model - improved latitude range..."

Nigel smiles at Adam's enthusiasm but doesn't tell him to shut up.

"I-I'm sorry, I talk too much when I get excited," he breathes out, then glancing at the time. "It's a fifteen minute drive, shouldn't we get going?"

"Yeah, in a little while," Nigel says, suddenly realizing that this is the last time he's going to be able to kiss Adam and it fills him with dread, causes his fingers to tighten their hold of Adam's biceps. "Just a bit longer, Raul can break the fucking speed limit or whatever."

"That's against the law," Adam reminds him gleefully, breaking into a smile when Nigel leans in to kiss him. Their mouths brush against each other, Nigel's desperate, hot like fire, where as Adam, completely oblivious to the seriousness of the situation, merely presses closer and giggles. He makes a muffled sound, trying to say something but Nigel ignores it, cupping Adam's face and keeping it where he wants it as he continues to kiss the other's lips with growing urgency.

"You're making me get excited," Adam manages to utter in between kisses, his giggles finally dying out and turning into breathy little pants, "Nigel... Nigel... We should... Oh... We should go."

"Yeah, okay gorgeous," Nigel tells him, his voice coming out embarrassingly weak. Adam stands there, his expression slowly turning into something darker as Nigel pulls away. Taking Nigel's hand, he worries on his lower lip for a moment before speaking.

"I'm nervous about the funeral. A lot of people will be there," Adam tells him as they start to head out of the house, Nigel barely listening from the intense ache that has suddenly taken over his chest. "It's strange, not being able to see my dad ever again."

"All your friends are going to be there, aren't they? What's his name... Harlan? Aren't you glad to see him?" Nigel tells him as he opens the door to let Adam in the car, "You'll be fine."

"Oh, of course," Adam nods in agreement. "I know I'll be fine, I have you now."

Nigel doesn't say anything for a while. He squeezes Adam's hand, glances at his profile as Adam looks out of the window at the passing scenery, watches the wind blow the leaves off the trees and send them spiraling into the air.

"Just focus on trying to get through the day," Nigel mutters quietly, hating himself but knowing what he's planning is the right thing to do.

 

The car pulls up in front of the graveyard four minutes before noon. They get out of the car as people pour in from the sidewalk and Adam waves at a large, older black man who's waiting at the gates. The man seems surprised to see Adam there, the expression on his face a mixture of confusion and worry as he eyes Nigel from afar, who refuses to move when Adam yanks on his hand. A couple more impatient tugs and Adam turns around to face him, the wind blowing his hair and messing up his carefully styled curls, eyes demanding an answer. The man is approaching them now but Nigel pays him no attention as his full focus is only on Adam.

"The service is about to start, hurry up, Nigel," Adam urges him, tugging once more. "We can't be late."

"I'm not his friend or his family, I shouldn't go," Nigel tells him in a hushed tone, now worried that the man is going to come and interrupt them, "You go. I'll wait right here, yeah, angel?"

"Why do you keep calling me that? Angels don't exist," Adam tells him like Nigel is acting stupid again and needs someone to correct him. "There is simply no scientific proof."

"I know they fucking do," Nigel smiles at Adam, "I know because I'm holding one's hand right now."

"You're being silly-" Adam starts, all smiles before the sound of his name being called makes him turn around. His hand slips away from Nigel's grip as he steps closer to greet the man that must be no-one else but Harlan, the only other contact in Adam's phone.

"Where on earth have you been?" the man clasps his shoulders and asks him.

"It's kind of a secret," Nigel hears Adam tell him, "But I'll tell you some of it afterwards."

Adam turns to glance over his shoulder at Nigel, giving him one more look as Nigel nods encouragingly. Knowing Adam's simply unable to read the look on his face, the kid seems to take it the way Nigel wants him to anyway.

"But now we need to hurry," Adam's voice is drowned out by the bustle of the busy street as they step into the church's property through the gates.

Nigel leans against the door of the car, lights a cigarette and watches his receding back, his head of dark curls until he can no longer see it. With a final, lingering look at the graveyard, Nigel gets into the car and tells Raul to drive away.

 

Nigel can go three whole days without seeing Adam. Three days of way too much drinking, way too much cocaine and a carton of cigarettes finished in the time he normally smokes half a pack. Three way too long, chest-achingly lonely days, until Nigel gets in the car and drives to Adam's house. He doesn't go inside though - coming here is bad enough - and so Nigel sits in the car and stares at Adam's window aggressively, completely focused on the yellow curtains of his window like he's sure they're about to catch fire any minute now. Lighting a cigarette, Nigel rolls down the car window to breathe out the smoke and thinks about how he definitely should not be there, it's the worst fucking possible idea ever. He has a perfectly good reason to keep Adam out of his way - the kid doesn't deserve the life Nigel has chosen for himself, Adam is way too angelic for that - but Nigel can't help it, he just wants to make sure Adam's safe and sound even though it's only been three days since the last time Nigel saw him, kissed him, held his hand. A lot could have happened in that time.

"Fucking hell," Nigel groans defeatedly, hitting his forehead against the steering wheel. There's some movement behind the curtains and Nigel looks up - but the curtains are still again, he must have imagined it for he had a few fingers of whiskey before driving here. The cigarette tastes like shit and Nigel tosses it out the window, fingertips drumming against the wheel, jaw tense, the tendons in his neck taut. The thought of Adam coming back from the church expecting to find Nigel there is nothing but suffocatingly agonizing, him wandering around the streets, calling Nigel's name trying to find him but eventually giving up and returning home. Sitting in front of the TV, reading his astronomy books, eating his god-awful macaroni and cheese, thinking that Nigel doesn't care when that's most certainly not the case. Nigel cares too much and it's precisely the reason he shouldn't be doing this. After one more look at the stained window, Nigel starts the car and drives away.

 

He returns on the next day. Hating himself a bit less than the last evening, tonight Nigel's there close to midnight which isn't half as bad if you think about it - the streets are empty, no-one's going to be bothered by an unfamiliar car parked there like a suspicious burglar planning a breaking and entering. He knows Adam goes to bed around eleven but the lights are still on - Nigel watches the window for a few minutes before a shadow of a person passes the curtains and the apartment goes dim. His heart makes such an uncomfortable jump that Nigel finds himself reaching for his pack of Marlboro reds from the front pocket of his tacky, dog-printed shirt, and lights one up with shaky hands - he doesn't get it, he really doesn't, what it is about Adam that makes him so weak and so vulnerable when neither one of those two words would never be used to describe the man he is. Not a whiff of hair, no sight of Adam's pale skin, just a mere shadow and Nigel's getting heart palpitations that can't be healthy at his age. He thinks about a pajama-clad Adam sliding underneath warm bed-covers and with a sinking sensation, realizes that Adam doesn't need him there. The luxury of getting to sleep in his own bed is Adam's again, he no longer requires the comfort of sleeping in Nigel's - he's back to his own familiar, stuck-up routines where there's no spare room for Nigel nor anyone for that matter. It's highly likely Adam isn't even affected by loneliness the way most people are. He probably hasn't shed a single tear because of Nigel.

 

On the fifth day Nigel's nearly reached the limit of his patience. Never before has he spent so many days obsessing over someone rather than just showing up at their house - he pictures knocking on Adam's door, kissing him and not even making it to the bedroom before they're fucking, maybe right there on the floor of the living room - and the thought makes him let out an irritable groan and rub his hand over his crotch crudely. He can't do it, he _shouldn't_ do it, but the reasons why Nigel left him on the Sunday of the funeral all seem insignificant now, something that really doesn't matter on the grand scale of things, and who should Nigel be to decide what's good and what's not for Adam - he's an adult capable of making his own decisions even though his mind doesn't work the way Nigel's does which, truth be told, can't be altogether a bad thing.

The air in the car feels suffocating, like heavy weather before a storm, and he gets out with staggering steps, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he lights a cigarette and leans against the hood, continuing to stare at the window of Adam's home like on the many days before. It's past eleven and the apartment is dark - his time of arrival doesn't make any sense, Nigel knows this, as drilling holes into the kid's front door with his gaze isn't exactly a productive activity - but here he is, again, hoping for something while battling with his own conscience and his need to be close to the younger man. When the front door to Adam's building opens, Nigel isn't expecting it to be him. He's dressed in jeans and a comfortable sweater, a thick coat with a large hood he's pulled over his head and his face is partially in shadows as he slams the front door shut and stomps down the icy stone steps to cross the sidewalk and get over to Nigel who drops his cigarette in astonishment.

"Why do you keep coming here, Nigel?" Adam yells - Nigel's never heard him shout like that before - and the hood falls off his head to reveal a head of messy curls, "I don't understand what it means when you come here and just smoke! I can't sleep when I know you're out here!"

"Adam..." Nigel starts but the look in Adam's eyes is slightly mental, the blue of his eyes bright under a flickering street lamp.

"Dumb Adam, dumb Adam!" he screams, throwing his arms in the air in frustration, "Let's just lie to him and leave him there, he won't notice a thing, he's so dumb! You're a liar, Nigel!"

"I didn't lie to you," Nigel tries to tell him while avoiding Adam's hands that are swinging around resembling a short, capricious windmill.

"You didn't tell me you were going, that counts as lying!" Adam continues to bellow - a window on the building on the opposite side of the street lights up and someone peeks through the curtains to follow the scene taking place on the street down below. "Why did you leave me there? You told me you weren't going to let me go home!"

"Well, I..." Nigel stutters, suddenly finding it extremely difficult to explain his reasoning, "I thought it was what you fucking wanted. You kept talking about wanting to go home."

"I didn't want to go home like this, you got it all wrong, _all wrong_ ," Adam's voice breaks, his hands slump down and slide into his pockets, his facial muscles twitching with the intense effort he puts into trying to find the right words, "I... I... I looked for you. I didn't understand - I don't understand..."

They stand there in silence for a moment before Adam averts his glassy eyes to look over Nigel's shoulder without really seeing anything. Teardrops gather at his eyelashes as he tries to blink them away.

"Don't you want to..." Adam hesitates for a moment before his lips form a curse word, " _Fuck_ me anymore?"

"Uh," Nigel says, heat rushing to his cheeks and really, Nigel's fucking blushing, "I want to fuck you more than anything. If I had the fucking choice I would never stop fucking you."

"You do?" his eyebrows furrow in confusion, "That's not physically possible, if you continued to fuck me all the time your vital functions would eventually fail and you would-"

"We would take breaks in between," Nigel interrupts him, unable to stop grinning as the situation in all it's awkwardness is also getting exceedingly silly, "I meant that if you fucking let me, I could come over and fuck you every day until you get tired of me and fucking break up with me."

"Why would I break up with you?"

"I don't fucking know," Nigel huffs, taking a step closer, "Because I shot a bunch of people, dealt drugs and kidnapped you, for example. Most people would consider that to be pretty damn fucked up."

"Oh," Adam says simply, worrying on the side of his lip, "But I'm not like most people."

"That's right," Nigel takes the final step to get near enough to brush his knuckles down Adam's cheek. "You're not like most people and I fucking like that."

Leaning into the touch, Adam closes his eyes and breathes out. When he re-opens them, they look more beautiful than ever - long lashes casting shadows over his cheeks, his dark circles, the blue of his eyes reflecting the stars in the cloudless sky of the night, impossibly wide, painfully innocent.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you would like some tea, Nigel," Adam repeats patiently, takes Nigel's hand from his cheek and entwines their fingers to pull him along. "I always drink tea before bedtime."

They don't make it to the bedroom. As soon as the front door closes Nigel flips him around and kisses him, their mouths coming together like a pair of battling carnivores fighting over prey, both grabbing each other's faces in their eagerness after removing their coats. Adam gets the wind knocked out of him as Nigel pushes him against the doorway that leads into the kitchen, his feet lifting of the ground with Nigel's arms wrapping beneath the curve of his ass to ram him against the wall, a nearby cabinet filled with china rattling with the force of it. The touch of Adam's skin is an even greater high that all the drugs Nigel's flushed through his system put together and he basks in it; the sensation of Adam's wiry arms wrapping behind his neck, the accommodating strength in his smaller body, his lips that yield under Nigel's and let him have it, all of it, and Nigel takes and takes anything Adam is willing to give him.

He plants the kid on the kitchen counter - knocking over a box of All-bran - Adam's fingers lunge towards his crotch to open Nigel's fly and slide in his warm palm, using it to cup the bulge in Nigel's underwear. Unbuttoning Adam's jeans with practiced ease, Nigel returns the favor and lets his hands roam underneath the waistband of his boxers, both panting into each other's mouths as their hands do all the work, foreheads pressing together, Adam's fluttering eyelashes tickling the bridge of Nigel's nose. He wants Adam undressed as quickly as possible but the hand in his pants is quite the distraction, and Nigel moans, Adam's lips mouthing the tattoo on his neck, fingers tightening their hold.

"'m so sorry, baby," Nigel presses his lips to Adam's cheekbone, feels the slight stubble on his jaw and shudders with pleasure, "So sorry I left you there."

"Hmm," Adam hums distractedly, pulling his hands away to begin unbuttoning Nigel's shirt. His fingers are surprisingly dexterous in their haste as they push the shirt off his shoulders, running his palms down Nigel's front, through his chest hair, then grabs his hips and pulls him closer.

"I'm a fucking jerk, alright? I just want the best for you," Nigel rambles, letting it all come pouring out of him, "You're too fucking good for me, you're the most... Perfect... I want you so-"

"Nigel," Adam huffs impatiently, grabs his face with both hands and holds it in place as he speaks blankly, "Could you shut up?"

They look into each other's eyes - Nigel's worried he's going to find something in Adam's gaze, proof that he doesn't want it after all, but Adam gives him the widest, purest smile, satisfied in succeeding to silence the older man.

"Take me to the bedroom," he says and Nigel obeys gladly, lifting Adam back into his arms and stumbling his way through the kitchen to get to Adam's room. He slams the light switch as he crosses the threshold, not wanting to do this in the dark, and lowers Adam onto his bed covers, crawling over him while removing the rest of his clothing; his socks from his feet, jeans down his hips, kissing his chest as the skin is revealed from under his shirt. Adam's breathing turns into short-winded sniffling as Nigel's mouth makes it to his navel, to the trail of hair down his stomach, over the fabric of his boxers where he stays, kissing the shape of Adam's cock through his underwear. Nigel's never done anything like that before but the reaction he receives makes it all worth it - wrapping his fingers around the base of Adam's erection, he pulls it out and presses the flat of his tongue against the head, then simply letting it slide into his mouth.

" _Ooh,_ " Adam's voice is a surprised whimper, his hands flying up to clasp Nigel's hair, harshly breathing through his nose. The muscles in his stomach tighten from pleasure, his thighs quivering where they are spread around Nigel's shoulders - and Nigel can recognize the signs anywhere and so he lets Adam's cock fall out of his mouth before he can cum, and looks up at red face staring back at him. It's the first time ever that Adam seems to understand what Nigel wants without words - he reaches over to the bedside table, digging through a drawer and then hands something to him, a small tube of lube, and Nigel uncaps it with competent fingers before resuming the task of sucking Adam off. He takes it slow this time, merely swirling his tongue around the ridge as he removes Adam's boxers completely to give his legs some more room to spread.

Knowing Adam can easily take it, Nigel slides two of his fingers inside to prepare him. Adam's hips buckle off the bed, the head of his cock colliding with Nigel's palate but he doesn't gag - he'd been half expecting this - he gives it one last suck before letting his tongue travel down the vein on the underside of Adam's cock, continuing lower, until the small noises Adam's been emitting turn disbelieving with the direction Nigel's tongue is headed. Nigel doesn't think twice, he merely acts, bending one of Adam's legs to reach the place where his fingers are thrusting into him and licks around the rim, Adam's fingernails digging into his scalp rather painfully. He vaguely hears Adam mumbling something but ignores it, finding doing this to him insanely hot, panting moisture to Adam's inner skin, moving his fingers trying to find the spot that'll make him keen. There's pressure to the top of his head and Nigel looks up to see Adam trying to push him away - his entire face has gone red, curls sticking to his forehead with sweat - and Nigel goes with it, letting Adam direct him over to lie on his back and remove the last piece of clothing between their bodies - Nigel's trousers together with his briefs.

Adam straddles him - sits right on top of Nigel's pelvis and reaches behind himself to grab Nigel's cock with a slick palm, running it up and down the length a couple of times before trying to guide it inside himself. He's inexperienced, clumsy, and doesn't know how to do it but Nigel lets him anyway, not wanting to deflate his newly found confidence. Adam's eyes are as unfocused as ever but there's determination in them, and he manages somehow, the head of Nigel's cock slipping in through the tight ring of muscle as Adam lowers himself down on it, mouth falling open with the stretch, seeking something to hold on to and settling on planting his palms to Nigel's stomach. Adam doesn't give himself time to get used to being breached but starts moving immediately - Nigel doesn't mind one bit as he grabs Adam by the hips and helps him, thrusting up when Adam pushes down, making them both moan. Their rhythm is irregular, all over the place, but it doesn't hold them down - it's even better like this, without a condom Nigel can feel _everything_ , he can feel how much Adam wants this, how it turns him on just as much as it does Nigel, the tight heat around him better than any sex he's had before.

Nigel pushes himself up into a sitting position to wrap his arm around Adam's waist to make it easier for him, tilting his head up and immediately getting his lips kissed with fiery enthusiasm, Adam's tongue sliding into his mouth, his breathing harsh, sniffling puffs through his nose, a steady pour of whimpers drowning out the creaking of the bed. Adam throws his head back when Nigel yanks him down more roughly, hugging Nigel's face to his chest and going tense, spine arching - for a short moment Nigel thinks he's gone too deep and hurt him but Adam shakes his head, movements even more frantic - Nigel's stomach makes an unexpected lurch at the realization that Adam wants it rough. He's going to finish before Adam does - Nigel realizes and buries his face into Adam's neck, mouthing the sweaty skin and thrusts up with vigor, trying to hold back his pleasure but Adam does no such thing.

"I'm gonna- _ooh-_ " he cries, jerking in Nigel's embrace and there it is - hot cum splatters all over Nigel's stomach, Adam's entire body in tremors, and Nigel lets go as well, thrusting as deep as he can before his eyes close in the height of his climax. It takes a long while for Nigel to come down from his high - his hands roam all over Adam's body, mostly his ass, fingertips grazing the part where their bodies are still joined, like basking in sunlight, not caring about the fact that Adam's arms wrapped around his neck are holding him so tight he can barely breathe. Their lips find each other as soon as Adam eases up a bit, the squeeze of his arms slowly melting into a delicate dance of fingers across Nigel's shoulders as they kiss softly, without urgency.

"Will you spend the night?" Adam whispers into his mouth, "I haven't been able to fall asleep with you gone. It must be because I got used to sleeping with you."

"I'll spend all my nights here if that's what you want, gorgeous," Nigel grins lazily, rubbing the tip of his nose to Adam's cheek. Fuck Darko. Fuck the drug deals. Fuck everything other than isn't this.

"It's what I want," Adam replies clearly, breaking the kiss to stare at Nigel's eyebrows and caress his under eyes with his thumbs. He shifts slightly, making a gesture of wanting to unjoin their bodies and Nigel helps, making sure it doesn't hurt him as they pull apart.

Adam's steps are unsteady as he makes his way to switch off the light, then digging into one of his cupboards trying to find something. Settling more comfortably under the covers and finding Adam's bed to be much nicer quality than his, Nigel relaxes and waits for Adam to return and be done with whatever he's doing. The room is suddenly filled with spinning lights coming from some sort of device Adam has plugged in, painting the walls with star constellations that make Nigel's head dizzy.

"Where did you get that?" Nigel forgets to close his mouth as he watches Adam slide back into bed with him, eyes sparkling with excitement even in the dark.

"I-I made it. I've told you, I'm an electrical engineer."

"Fuck," Nigel smiles, making room for Adam to lay down against his side. "That's pretty fucking beautiful, Adam."

"Thank you, Nigel. I'm going to teach you things about the stars now," he explains in a colorless voice, clearly not tired at all, "Tomorrow we're going out to the observatory to look at them for real."

"Oh," Nigel hums pleasantly, so sated he'd probably agree to fly to the moon had Adam suggested that.

"All stars but one, our sun, can be associated with an IAU constellation. There are 88 IAU constellations but the sky is actually divided into 89 irregularly shaped boxes..." Adam begins to explain and even though Nigel is already exhausted as hell, he listens carefully to every word Adam has to say. A week before the funeral of Adam's father Nigel could have never imagined anything like this.

It turns out - Nigel has all the patience in the world when it comes to Adam.

 

[](https://ibb.co/jDQzkb)


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